


Drowned Road to Legend

by Beej88, smokingbomber



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, F/M, Fantasy, Friendship, Legends, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 03:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21172370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beej88/pseuds/Beej88, https://archiveofourown.org/users/smokingbomber/pseuds/smokingbomber
Summary: After a tragedy leads Makoto to meet a mysterious ghostly specter beneath the water off the coast of Cornwall, it sets off a chain of events in her life. Unable to resist the promise of a vast and ancient mystery, Makoto, and her best friend Usagi set off to chase down the threads that lead them one step closer to discovering the cause of the tragic disappearance of a city beneath the ocean waves.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the Senshi & Shitennou Reverse Mini Bang, 2019. This is my first time contributing, ever, so thank you first of all to the Mods that arrange this! Seriously. So much work goes into coordinating all of this. You guys are awesome!  
This work was inspired by the art by the amazingly talented, @smokingbomber. All the praise in the world for what this girl can do as an artist! Honestly. I am in awe. Visit her profile, read her stuff, and fall in love with her art. Cause you will.  
Another shout out to Zellie, who made this inspiring playlist for the art, that I definitely utilized for more than just writing this. Follow this link to listen while reading! https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3jStHfIR_s7_NtaJaiKrFKoIxRTBn3Kx
> 
> And, thanks so much to @NinjetteTwitch. This girl is my Sailor Moon bestie, my writing rock, and the best bae-ta on the planet. Do you know she stayed up with until the am hours, on multiple occasions, just to cheer me on for this? To make sure that my exhausted, garbled sentences made sense? To listen when I was tormented over an idea that wasn't quite right? Love you to death, girl! And thank you for pushing me to finish this!

**Prologue**

It was her sorrow and the harsh cords of grief painfully twisted around her heart that drove her into the waves on that fateful night. Blinded by tears, her breath trapped in her throat, she’d stumbled across the sand, gasping on rattling, dry heaving sobs. Gone. They were _ gone. _And she was trapped in a foreign country that she couldn’t possibly manage to leave on her own.

Everything had seemed overwhelmingly impossible at that moment, and her hands shook as her knees buckled and she fell. Her palms pressed into the cold, compacted sand on the vast expanse of the deserted beach that was bathed in the glow of the almost full moon in a dark, cloudless sky.

She was only dimly aware of the sound of the waves angrily crashing against jagged rock formations just beyond the shoreline, white caps roughly curling over the shoals. The smell of the salty air tingled her nose and she forcibly tried to control her ragged breathing as her blurred vision managed to focus on her hands.

She hadn’t realized how close she’d come to the water's edge until the waves lapping on the shore slowly began to lick at her fingers. She inhaled sharply because the waves were like an icy balm. Washing the grains of sand away from her hands before retreating back into the water. It was crazy. It didn’t make sense, but as she lifted her head to fix her gaze onto the endless expanse of the dark, rippling water of the ocean, she swore that it was beckoning her.

Any person in their right mind would have laughed dismissively, stood, wiped the remnants of sand from their hands and walked away. She wasn’t in her right mind, though. She was drowning in her _ own _anguished sea of grief as she tried to come to terms with what her life was going to look like now. So painfully alone. So, when she stood, she didn’t turn to go back the way she’d come. Instead, she kicked off the sandals she’d barely managed to shove her feet into before leaving the hotel room, that should have been shared with her parents and stepped closer to the water.

The sound of her racing heart echoed in her ears, mingled with the deafening roar of the ocean. She must have been numb, because, before she knew it, she’d waded in waist-deep, her hands treading through the water that seemed to be forcibly pulling her forward. She didn’t resist the pull because it felt nice, and for the first time since she’d learned that the plane carrying her parents had crashed earlier that day, she felt like she could _ breathe _. Soon though, the crests of the waves reached higher, swelling bigger, and hit her shoulders and face at an alarming rate. So quick that she barely had time to suck in breaths of air in between each billowing wave.

She’d seen the signs, stakes in the ground with various warnings, that clearly indicated that this was not a safe place to swim. She should have been afraid; paralyzed with fear. Instead, it was almost a relief to the hollowed aching feeling in her chest. So, when a particularly violent swell submerged her head and ripped her into the undercurrent, she closed her eyes and did not resist its pull.

She was sure that the whole thing should have been painful, and she could distinctly feel her body automatically reacting to the lack of air; her lungs burning painfully in her chest, the salt in the water stinging her eyes as she tumbled and twisted further into the black, murky depths of the sea.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been under now, but she felt the edges of her mind blurring her vision, a clear indication that she was probably drowning and the lack of oxygen was going to asphyxiate her. If she could have laughed without swallowing water, she would have. Because, despite everything she’d read, drowning didn’t seem like the most painful way to go. Though that hadn’t been her intention, she was resigned, unafraid, numb to what was about to happen.

She was sinking lower, being pulled further, the water violently ripping at her clothes, unraveling the chestnut-brown strands of hair from her hastily crafted ponytail, and when she instinctively opened her mouth to inhale something into the desperately burning cavity of her lungs, instead of breathing in a mouthful of water, something _ strange _happened.

The violent churning of the waves completely stilled, and the urge to breathe suddenly disappeared entirely. She was suspended, floating in a quiet, still void of stagnant black water. The green-colored fabric of her clothes, sodden and heavy, should have pulled her down. Logically she knew, even from her waterlogged mind, that she should be sinking. That, by all rights, there was no possible way she should still be conscious.

She wondered if maybe she’d already drowned, and she was contemplating an attempt to swim back up to the surface when she saw him. 

It was impossible. There was no way that there was someone in the water with her. In the water that had suddenly wholly _ stopped _moving; the violent movements of the waves absent, the liquid transformed into a glistening, mirror-like substance, that held her still, frozen in place. The only viable explanation that she could come up with was that she was hallucinating from lack of oxygen. Or... she was already dead.

At that moment, though, she didn’t care about any of that. Because her eyes, that should have been blurred underwater, but _ wasn’t, _fixed onto the ghost-like specter in front of her.

Her gaze slid over him, frenzied, and filled with confusion. Even shimmering, and slightly transparent, he was all sinuous cords of muscles, hardened contours and chiseled features with hair longer than her own, rippling in the waves around broad shoulders.

Her heart began to race, though, when her gaze locked onto his face, and her breath— quite inexplicably, as she was underwater, after all— hitched painfully in her throat beneath the intensity of his stare. She was sure, in all of her life, there was not a single person that had ever looked at her quite like _ that _. If she could have, she would have inhaled sharply at the warmth that washed through her body.

It was overwhelming; like a painfully bittersweet feeling that tugged on her heartstrings, and elicited a wisp of memory that she couldn’t quite grasp, though it danced tantalizingly at the edge of her mind. What she _ did _ know, with a sudden feeling of certainty, was that she _ knew _him. She could feel the familiarity with a blinding ferocity that consumed her.

He must have felt it too because his eyes widened, and they glistened as brightly as if she were standing in the sun instead of frozen deep below the darkened surface of the water.

One moment she was staring at him, awestruck, her eyes curiously unaffected by the burning effects of the salt in the water. Then the next, he was suddenly floating in front of her.

She couldn't breathe, and this time it had less to do with the fact that she was underwater and more to do with shimmering, semi-transparent hands that cradled her face. It was like basking in the warmth of the sun, and a wave of heat swept through her body as she blinked up into his eyes.

His gaze was soft and filled with a tenderness that quickly melted into something else. A sense of urgency. As if he wanted to tell her something, but he couldn't.

She shook her head, confused because though his lips were moving, it was soundless and she couldn't hear anything.

She only had a second to try and decipher the look of frustration that contorted the chiseled, perfectly angled edges of his facial features, before he was behind her, and she was enveloped in the circle of strong, light-filled arms that locked around her torso like protective steel bands.

They were suddenly moving at an alarming, heart-stoppingly quick speed, and she clenched her eyes shut. It felt like her heart was jumping into her throat as they sliced listlessly through the dark, pitch-black depths of the water. 

It was the first time since she'd carelessly waded into the ocean that she felt a twinge of fear coiling in the pit of her stomach, and she trembled as she twisted her body around, and curled into the warmth of his chest. _ How was any of this possible? _

She didn't realize that they'd stopped until the man placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head upwards. Her eyes flew open, and once again, she was caught off guard by the warm, tender intensity of his gaze.

He opened his mouth, soundlessly, then lifted his hand and gestured towards something behind her.

She didn't want to turn away from him. Her eyes remained inexplicably glued onto his face. She was mesmerized, fascinated, completely captivated by him, and she lifted her own hand, her eyes narrowed with curiosity as she tentatively touched his face.

It was s_trange _ because he wasn't entirely… solid? But still, when she touched his jaw, it felt like she was running her fingers along liquid sunshine. 

The urgency in his eyes disappeared for a moment, and his eyes crinkled in the corners as his gaze softened. It was only when his lips quirked up into an amused smirk that she snapped out of it. It finally registered where she was, how she’d arrived here, and how the whole damn thing was utterly _ impossible _! Before she could do anything, though, he leaned forward and brushed his semi-transparent, ghostly lips across hers before promptly twisting her around.

  
[ ](https://66.media.tumblr.com/4b521eafd0ceb3ac672db7787cc8f152/tumblr_pzlmyclUPN1tw7aovo3_1280.png)

There was a whirr of water in her ears as she dizzily focused her eyes on what he'd been pointing at. His arms anchored her in place, firmly circled comfortingly around her chest.

Her eyes widened, and the hammering of her heart in her rib cage intensified. It was like an invisible, brightly-lit cord of energy that had been dormant and coiled around her heart up until this point, burst forward and connected her to something meaningful.

She blinked, practically blinded by rays of light that danced colorfully in the rippling waves that twisted around her as they filtered through the most beautiful stained glass window that she’d ever seen. It was fixed into a rough, slightly eroded, stone wall of what looked to be a crumbling sunken castle.

She wasn't sure where the light was coming from, but it was like a show of twinkling stars in red, gold and blue. The design was breathtaking, intricately detailed lines etched into the glass. The word 'Lyonesse’ was carved beautifully above stained, twisting waves and two figures sitting in a boat.

She didn't know what it meant or how it was important. All she knew was that, at that moment, the grief and loneliness that had wracked her body in anguished swells of pain entirely disappeared. In its place was a blinding need and a driving obsession that she knew would plague her for the rest of her life; a purpose that she hadn't realized she needed.

That was her last thought before the edges of her vision went black, and she fell into a temporary void of darkness.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Eyelids laced with long black lashes flew open, accompanied by a startled gasp. It took a moment for a disoriented Makoto Kino's eyes to adjust as she blearily blinked away the remnants of sleep and tried to forcibly shake off the raw intensity that always lingered after the dream. And it was always the same dream. Over, and over again. It was her, broken and grief-stricken, tumbling through the ocean, before meeting _ him _. 

Once upon a time, she'd been sure, absolutely convinced, that it was more than a dream. That it was a memory. A pull towards something more significant; a higher purpose that called to her along with the hauntingly beautiful features of a ghostly man that was somehow familiar. 

With a painfully long exhale, she raked her palm across her face and propped herself up on her elbows. It was always difficult to banish the aching feelings elicited by the dreams first thing in the morning. Somehow she managed, though, and her eyes adjusted to the darkness of her room, shadows cast by the lights of the passing cars from the early morning traffic filtering through her partially covered window. 

She craned her neck sideways, the numbers 5:14 blinking up at her from an alarm clock perched on her side table. She grimaced, her eyes flashing with annoyance. She'd woken up before her alarm, again. 

With an irritated sigh, she swiveled around, swung her bared legs over the edge of her bed, and stretched out a knotted kink in her neck. An image of her ghostly specter involuntarily flashed through her mind again. His chiseled facial features and the look of knowing tenderness glinting in his eyes were seemingly, and quite frustratingly, permanently burned into her memory. She'd tried, unsuccessfully, for years to wipe that vision away. Because, though it had taken practically her entire high school career, the string of well-meaning therapists had finally managed to convince her. 

The vision she'd seen when she'd been pulled into the icy depths of the ocean off of the beach in Cornwall when she'd fled into the water— practically drowning in the process— had been nothing but a product of her anguished grief. It was a defense mechanism, they'd insisted. A way to cope with the devastating loss of her parents who should have met her there on their family vacation, but had never made it off of that doomed flight. 

According to the glassy-eyed therapists, whose sympathy was contrived, and whose names she'd already forgotten, it was a painful amalgamation of anguish and guilt that had driven her to see something that couldn't possibly be real. Guilt, because she blamed herself for taking the flight they should have all been on, instead of waiting when the airline had mistakenly double-booked. Guilt because they had died, and she'd lived. 

Makoto shook her head in an attempt to clear the intrusive thoughts; to no avail, of course. Because, despite everything, the memories, the underlying anguish, and the driving need that came with it, had never entirely disappeared. 

With another sigh, she stood, knowing full well that sleeping now would be impossible, as she padded across the cold laminate floor into the en-suite bathroom. With a flick of the light switch and a quick twist of the shower nozzle, she slowly, almost lazily, went through the motions of her morning routine. 

High school had been a blur for her, and she'd barely found the time to focus on homework and assignments. Luckily, she'd excelled in three things; baking, the ability to fake it until she made it, and the skill to fight anyone who dared to question her sullen disposition. 

It was an odd pool of skills, and baking was really the only one that she was able to successfully utilize well. So well, in fact, that she'd scored a part-time job at a small local French bakery, Mont Thabor, in Azabu-Juban, Minato, Tokyo just after graduating high school. From there, she'd excelled exponentially. Moving to a full-time position, main-baker, and, despite her brooding nature, she'd become good friends with the owner. 

It was ideal. It paid well, but, if she were honest, it didn't quite fill the gaping void inside of her. And, admittedly, she was lonely. 

Makoto's bottle-green eyes fixed miserably onto the slim, slightly pallid reflection in the mirror, and, just like every morning, she practiced forcing a smile. She was getting good at it, the corners of her lips curled up into something passable, and she knew that if she tried hard enough or faked it long enough, one day it would feel real. 

It was a quarter after 6 am when she slid her key into the lock of her apartment door, secured the strap of her canvas bag on her shoulder, and adjusted the collar of her comfortable, practical, green-colored Puma sweater before venturing out for the day. 

She was already compiling a list of things she needed to do. All mundane tasks that she was not looking forward to, except for lunch with her best friend. Usagi Tsukino. The bubbly, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl had been the only one of her classmates to remain her friend when she'd come back irrevocably _ changed _that fateful summer. 

A genuine smile that could only be elicited by thoughts of Usagi graced her delicate features as she carefully navigated through the foot traffic that was already busily bustling, even this early, towards the bakery. 

Her days mostly bled together into one big chunk of time that wasn't really _ living _. Not in the way that she wished, anyway. Which, she'd ultimately come to accept. 

Another image of her ghost man and his stained glass window flashed quickly through her mind once again and successfully wiped the smile from her face. 

As usual, she was sobered of any wisp of what could have been the promise of excitement or happiness. Because, though it probably wasn't real, Makoto knew that she'd changed that night. She'd been undeniably molded into something else. A broken-hearted wisp of what she'd been before. Her heart and soul wracked with a driving need to do something she didn't understand. 

Sometimes, the word Lyonesse was whispered enticingly into her ears. A bodiless sound filled with a plea and a promise of something more. In those moments, she stamped it down, because if she didn't, she'd think of _ him _ . And, well, she'd been told on countless occasions, by a vast array of professionals that knew better than her, that to dwell on _ that _was borderline insanity; a dangerously obsessive addiction that would eat away at her if she wasn't careful. 

She snorted miserably to herself at the thought just as she rounded the corner and stopped in front of the red-painted door, with golden details etched into the wood of Mont Thabor. Because honestly, she wasn't sure what was worse. The obsession with a moment that had seemingly saved her life when she'd nearly succumbed to her grief or the pressing sadness that accompanied her unbearable loneliness. 

With a sigh, she forcibly pulled herself out of her miserable inner musings, plastered the fake smile of confidence onto her lips, and tried not to summon the comforting image of a man that didn't exist as she stepped over the threshold into the warm, delicious-smelling confines of the bakery. 

Her only goal these days was to ignore the pull, the haunting visions, and maybe, _ just maybe _, she'd survive. 

* * *

It was unusually busy this morning, and Makoto didn’t have time to dwell on anything. Instead, she was comfortably distracted, elbow-deep in fresh baking ingredients. Shiritamako —a glutinous rice flour needed to make her famous red bean paste filled Daifuku mochi— splattered across her face, neck and the navy blue apron cinched around her waist. 

She didn’t consider herself an artist by any means. In fact, she’d cringed away from anything remotely artistic in school. She was clumsy with a paper and pen and messy with paints and pastels. But in the kitchen, she was in her element. Hours could fly by in the blink of an eye while she kneaded, molded, and carefully crafted her edible creations; castella cakes and frosted macaroons, a particular favorite of Mont Thabor’s patrons. 

That was what she was doing when Asahi, the new tawny-haired cashier whose work ethics were questionable, poked his head through the swinging kitchen door, an arrogant smirk quirked on his lips.

“Hey, Makoto,” he drawled in that grating tone that made her grit her teeth. “There’s some super hot blonde girl here to see you.” 

She grimaced guiltily, wiping her hands across her apron before hastily untying it and draping it over the counter. She’d almost forgotten about her lunch date with Usagi. 

She knew that she probably looked like a hot mess, and Makoto self-consciously tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear as she hurriedly flipped off the kitchen appliances and turned towards the door. 

Asahi wore an annoyingly expectant expression that she chose to ignore as she took a step towards him, scowling because he was in the way, 

His grin widened. “So, is she single, or…?”

Makoto rolled her eyes, purposely elbowing him as she swept by. “Don’t even think about it, Asahi,” she snapped, her tone leaving no room for argument even as he sucked in a pained breath of air through his teeth, wincing, tentatively rubbing the spot that she’d jabbed on his ribs. 

He muttered something under his breath, but she didn’t hear it as she strode around the counter into the small sitting area at the front of the shop. 

The owner, Mei Ling, was a bit eclectic, utterly obsessed with Parisian decor. Which was why the room was a mish-mash of wrought-iron chairs, delicate doilies, and questionably painted pieces of art. Still, despite how odd its appearance, she hadn’t heard any complaints. It was considered cute, cozy, and Usagi looked right at home, perched on a provincial french, cream-colored upholstered armchair in front of a faux-fireplace encased in exposed brick with a half-eaten cookie poised on her lips. 

Usagi’s eyes lit up when she spotted her, her lips curled into a bright smile of anticipation. “Mako-chan!” Her voice was muffled as she called her name around a mouthful of sweets. 

Makoto smiled indulgently, the tension automatically easing from her shoulders as she moved to sit in the armchair across from her. 

She was always genuinely pleased to spend time with her friend. “Hey, girl! I’m so sorry I kept you waiting,” Makoto apologized. “Have you been here long?” 

Usagi shook her head, blonde tangled tresses flicking over her shoulders with the movement. “Nope, just got here,” she reassured with a flippant wave of her wrist. “Don’t even worry about it!” Her gaze slid over Makoto, and her eyes instantly lit up, an eager smile curled onto her lips as she more than likely noted the remnants of flour she hadn’t had time to wipe off. “Hey, did you just bake something _ fresh?” _

Just like that, it felt like the heavy feeling that seemed like it was a permanent fixture in her chest lessened. Dutifully, she fetched a freshly baked castella cake for her friend, a tea for herself, and casually sipped from a delicate white porcelain teacup as she lost herself in the sound of Usagi’s voice. 

Usagi liked to talk, gesturing animatedly, her eyes glossing over as if she were reliving the moments that she recounted with such exuberance and joy that it was infectious. Makoto couldn’t help but laugh, interjecting only occasionally, when she was curious about something she said. 

The thing about Usagi Tsukino was that her friend gave of herself without restraint. She was like a breath of fresh air that lit up the dull greys surrounding any person that she came into contact with. 

She worried, sometimes, that someone would come along and take advantage of Usagi’s giving nature. As she listened attentively to Usagi relay an amusing story about one of her customer interactions at Osa-Ps jewelry store, where she worked, she made an internal vow to make a concerted effort to spend more time with her. 

The hour that she’d allotted to spend with Usagi this week flew by too quickly, and Makoto’s disappointed half-smile was genuine when she interrupted. “I’m sorry, Usagi-chan,” she began, her tone apologetic as she placed her cup on top of the small mosaic-tiled table in between them with a soft clink. “I need to get back to work.”

Usagi’s eyes widened, and she stiffened, a startled expression on her face. It would seem that the time had passed quickly for her, too. “Oh! Oh, no,” she exclaimed with regret. Her eyes softened as she bit her lower lip, furtively casting a nervous look at Makoto. 

The reaction was odd, and Makoto’s brows drew together into a frown. “Everything okay, Usagi-chan?” 

Makoto was alarmed when Usagi winced, shifting in her seat, her slender fingers fiddling nervously with the seam of her shirt. It was a bit ridiculous to overreact to Usagi’s oddly hesitant behavior, but Makoto was always in a state of waiting for the other shoe to drop. So she couldn’t help the way her heart picked up its pace, and her breath hitched in her throat. 

“Usagi-chan?” she demanded, the pitch in her tone betraying her self-conscious inner turmoil. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Usagi’s eyes widened, and she shook her head, waving apologetically. “Oh, no!” she assured quickly, cheeks flushed as she leaned forward slightly in her seat. “Nothing is _ wrong…” _she trailed off, giggling in that nervous I-don’t-want-to-make-you-mad kind of way that Makoto had heard countless times in the years that they’d been friends. 

Though Makoto was slightly reassured, her frown deepened as she shrewdly studied her friend. “Usagi,” she sighed, “what is it?” 

Usagi exhaled loudly, in an exaggerated, defeated kind of way as she fumbled for her weathered, faded pink purse that lay perched at her feet. “Okay, look,” she mumbled, her cheeks tinged red as she sifted through its contents. “Like, I don’t want you to get mad at me, Mako-chan,” she muttered anxiously under her breath. “I _ know _ you don’t like to talk about this—” Makoto’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and there was a rustling as Usagi pulled a slightly crumpled piece of paper from her purse, took a deep, steadying breath, then lifted her eyes to meet her gaze. “But, you see. I _ know _you think you’re crazy about what happened in Cornwall—” 

Makoto inhaled sharply, startled by Usagi’s words that sent a trill of involuntary terror rolling down her spine. She didn’t like to talk about it out loud, and the panic began to settle in as her throat closed up with emotion. “_ Usagi-chan,” _Makoto hissed in warning, interrupting her, as shoulders stiffened with tension. 

Usagi tightened her grip on the paper in her hands, crinkling it further, as she snapped her mouth shut, visibly swallowing as she clearly debated whether to continue. 

Only seconds passed before Usagi cleared her throat. “Mako-chan, I swear, I’m not trying to hurt you here,” she began, eyes wide and pleading. “I _ know _how much it hurts you when we talk about this out loud, but I need to show you something.” 

Makoto shook her head, automatically recoiling. It _ did _hurt, and she spent so much of her time trying not to think about it, it was unbearable to put it into words. 

Usagi _ knew _ this. She’d been there from the very beginning. Had listened patiently as she’d ranted, raved and lamented with intense longing about the man in the water. Watched as she’d been forced in front of one therapist after the next. With each session, her passionate claims sizzled out with the painful, anguished realization that she was wrong. _ She must have been. _Admitting that all of this was in her head had been like losing a limb. 

Makoto reacted instinctively, standing abruptly and hastily smoothing down invisible creases in her shirt. “I’m sorry, Usagi-chan,” she blurted, her tone curt and harsher than she intended. “I really need to go.” 

Usagi scrambled to her feet, stumbling clumsily before steadying herself. “Wait, Mako-chan!” she gasped, panicked, as she firmly clasped her wrist. “_ Please _ , just look at this. You _ need _ to see it.” 

Usagi shoved the paper into her hands, and Makoto fought the urge to drop it onto the ground without looking at it. Usagi’s gaze was eager, soft and pleading, though. It tugged at her heartstrings and Makoto’s stance softened as she unfolded it with a sigh. 

Every once in awhile, Usagi tried her hand at sleuthing for details on Lyonesse, which usually included a cursory google search. Everything she’d ever found was the stuff of legends. Magical nonsense that was rooted in fantasy and only further cemented the theory that she’d only heard about Lyonesse in passing one day, probably in school, then subconsciously projected it into her delusion. 

Usagi meant well, though. So Makoto tried not to betray how difficult this was for her as she clasped the edges of the paper in her hands and scanned its contents. 

She’d been expecting a Wikipedia print out, maybe some obscure King Arthur reference. What she did _ not _expect to see was a clear cut photograph of a stained-glass window that was painfully familiar. 

Her breath hitched in her throat, and the blood drained from her face as she did a double-take. It was _ impossible. _ There was no _ way _. Except, there it was. As if pulled directly from her memories. The word Lyonesse etched beautifully into the glass that was perfectly preserved under the water, encased in a crumbling stone castle wall. 

Time stood still for a moment as Makoto studied the article title; ‘Sunken ruins discovered off the coast of Cornwall.’ 

_She couldn’t_ _breathe. _

“Mako-chan?” Usagi whispered worriedly, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “It’s the right window, isn’t it? You described it so many times. When I saw this, I just knew—” 

Makoto sucked in a pained breath through her teeth as she snapped her gaze up to meet Usagi’s. “Where did you _ find _this?” she hissed, her heart pounding, blood roaring in her ears. 

Usagi was taken aback by the tone of her voice, and she took an anxious step backward, nervously wringing her hands. “I’m always looking for things about Lyonesse, Mako-chan,” she admitted quietly. “This article was in English, but you know how Google chrome has that translatey thingy—” 

Makoto shook her head, the emotions overwhelming, feeling unreasonably angry. “_ Why, _though, Usagi-chan?” 

Usagi froze, lips parted in surprise at her question. “Because— well, because…” 

“Because, _ why?” _she rasped hoarsely. 

Usagi swallowed, eyes glistening with compassion. “Because it’s important, Mako-chan,” she exclaimed. “Because I hate that you think you’re crazy. _ You’re not.” _

Makoto’s eyes blurred with tears that she forcibly blinked back. It had been a delusion. She’d come to terms with it. It had _ never _ happened. Her gaze drifted back onto the article and the picture, so plainly real, that shook in her trembling grasp. _ And yet… _

She abruptly crumpled it in her hands, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I’m sorry, Usagi-chan,” she whispered, overwhelmed, her mind racing. “I need to go.” 

She didn’t even tell Asahi that she was leaving, and though Usagi said something, her tone soft, pleading and apologetic, she didn’t hear it. She needed to go home. To figure this out, to work through this _ logically. _

The thought that the glass window was real was terrifying. Though, really, the only thing that terrified her was the tiny bit of hope that unfurled in her chest, and the sharp thrill of excitement that tore through her at the thought. 

Because it had been years since she’d allowed herself to imagine that her dream ghost man was real. _ If he was _ … She couldn’t finish the thought in her head. That kind of hope was dangerous. It would _ crush _her this time if she let it. 

She was determined _ not _to let it, her steps hurried as she let instinct take over and mindlessly made her way back home. It took every ounce of will power she possessed not to look at that piece of paper again as she hastily kicked off her running shoes in her genkan, then stood and miserably faced the quiet darkness of her apartment. 

It didn’t matter what was on the paper. Regardless, if the window was real or _ not _ , it didn’t matter. _ It didn’t… right? _

She was a flurry of energy as she sprang into action, making a conscious decision not to think about it, no matter how ridiculously unreasonable that was. She only dimly registered that her cell phone rang multiple times, but she ignored it, busily tearing her kitchen apart; pulling all of her baking ingredients from cupboards, and covering her countertops with the fresh fruits that she pulled out of the fridge. 

It was only several hours later, the delectable scent of cheesecakes, chocolate gateau, and sesame cookies intermingling in the warmth of her apartment, that Makoto finally admitted defeat. She was a mess, covered in flour and powdered sugar when she finally flicked the stove off with a shaky inhale, her lower lip quivering, and her eyes blurred with tears. She wasn’t going to be able to bake this away. 

She was exhausted, suddenly, and she didn’t even shower before crawling into bed in the dimly-lit interior of her bedroom. 

It was only when she was curled up underneath her comforter, the silence in her room deafening, that she allowed herself to carefully unfurl the white, crumpled lump of paper that she’d shoved into the pocket of her jeans. 

The sob that burst from her lips as she shakily fixed her gaze on the creased picture startled her, and she clenched her eyes shut and clutched it to her chest. 

If it was real —and that was a big _ if _ — what did it really matter, anyway? It’s not like she could just get up, fly to Cornwall, and _ investigate. _ She had a life here. She had responsibilities. She had… 

She swallowed around the lump of emotion in her throat, burrowing deeper into the downy softness of her pillowtop. 

What _ did _ she have _ exactly _? 

That was her last thought before she drifted off into a restless sleep. 

* * *

The beach was the same; white sand glowing under the light of the moon that hung, unimpeded by clouds, in a starry sky. Something was different this time, though, and Makoto held her breath as she took a step closer to the water’s edge. 

It took a moment, but she was finally able to pinpoint what had changed. In all of her memories of this beach, and of that night, the waves had been angry; the white caps furiously crashing against the shoals as the water greedily lapped across the sand, tugging at her toes, demanding that she throw herself into its rage-filled depths. 

She’d always felt like the water had been a perfect reflection of the inner-turmoil in her heart that night. Right now, though, the water was quiet. It was unnatural for the ocean to be standing still like it was. The surface like glass, unrippled and silent, despite the churning breeze that whipped across her skin. 

This time she moved towards the water slowly, the pieces of her heart melding together peacefully as her bared feet quietly pressed imprints into the sand, stopping directly on the shoreline. She didn’t hesitate as she stepped into the water that remained still as she waded in waist-deep. It briefly occurred to her how strange it was that rather than disrupting the water, it flexed and molded warmly around her limbs. 

She was excited this time as she dipped beneath the surface, eyes wide, peering into the glass-like darkness of the watery underworld that haunted her dreams. 

She felt light; her floating limbs meeting no resistance as she sliced through the liquid, a peal of relieved laughter spilling from her lips because this was _ amazing _. Her lungs weren’t compressed like they should have been, burning with the need to breathe. She wasn’t fighting this anymore. 

She twirled, breathlessly giggling with excitement because this felt _ right. _

“Juno.” 

The silky tones of a deep baritone rippled clearly through the underwater wonderland. Makoto stopped twirling, gasping as it washed over her with a painful familiarity that made her heart ache with longing. 

With a twist of her hips, she turned to face the source of that beautiful sound. Her breath hitched, and her heart skipped a beat when she found _ him _. 

He was just as achingly beautiful as she remembered, and this time she wasn’t meeting him through the blurred lens of a pained memory. This time it felt _ real. _Like he was really floating there. All sculpted contours, broad-shouldered, and chiseled masculine features that exuded strength and mouthwatering perfection. 

The corner of his lips quirked up into an arrogant smirk. “Where have you _ been, _you little brat?” he demanded, his tone filled with amusement. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

The sound of his voice was so beautiful, she couldn’t help the whimper that bubbled up in her throat or the tears that welled in her eyes. Because she _ wanted _ him. She wanted him more than _ anything. _ If he wasn’t real, if this was all in her head, it was going to _ break _ her again. 

His expression instantly sobered, and his eyes softened as he opened his arms. “Come here, Juno.” 

It didn’t matter that he was calling her by another woman’s name. Her movements were fluid as she quickly flew through the strange liquid and into his arms. 

He definitely _ felt _real as she burrowed her face into the hardened expanse of his chest, the sound of his heart beating against her cheek soothing as she tucked her head beneath his chin. His arms were like iron bands as they wrapped around her, the feeling of strong palms fixed securely onto the small of her back sent tingles down her spine as he pressed her body flush against his. 

In his arms, all the barriers that she’d angrily erected around herself to project the illusion of an untouchable amazonian warrior, wholly dissipated. He made her feel safe, protected, and she didn’t even know his name. 

Too soon, he pulled away, cupping her chin and forcefully tilting her face upwards so that her gaze met his; instantly melting into the warm, hickory hues of his eyes. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.” The enticing, velvety inflection in his words elicited something primal that unfurled in the cavity of her chest and in the pit of her stomach. 

It was like cords of sizzling energy and recognition fused together, reaching out to him with a blinding need she didn’t even know existed within her. It was overwhelming, and in that instant, she would have done anything to stay here with him. 

She parted her lips, the words tangled on her tongue, as her fingers curled into the strange texture of his shirt. “Are you real?” 

His eyes widened, startled by her blurted exclamation, before they softened; amber flecks flickering in his eyes as the corners of his lips curled up into a sad, wistful smile. “Ah, Juno,” he whispered, lowering his head, pressing his forehead gently against hers and lifting both of his hands to cradle her face tenderly in his palms. “I’m sorry, of course you don’t remember.” 

She swallowed with difficulty, her throat constricted with emotion, as her eyelids fluttered shut. “Remember what?” she rasped, basking in the feeling of his skin against hers. 

He groaned suddenly, and her eyes flew open in alarm because _ something _ was _ happening _. His form was flickering, fading in her arms. 

She gasped, clutching him tighter, though the feel of him was becoming less tangible. “No!” she cried, “_ please _, don’t leave me again.” 

She thought she heard him sigh with longing as he swept down, the strands of his long silky, brown hair tickling her cheek as he softly brushed his lips across the skin of her neck. “It’s difficult to project, I should be conserving my energy. It’s just that I haven’t been able to sense you for _ so _ long…” he trailed off, flickering again. “Come find me again, little one. _ I need you _.” 

His words were whispered, strained, and murmured softly against her ear. It was the last thing he said before the spell was broken and he disappeared. Without him there, she was grasping at nothing and the waves began to churn with a ferocity that tore at her. This time, when she opened her mouth to scream, the water rushed into her lungs, choking the life from her. 

It was enough to pull her from the water, and she bolted upright, screaming, in the safe confines of her bed. 

She was disoriented, momentarily confused as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and the familiar outlines of her bedroom came into focus. Her breaths were coming out in short rasping pants, her fingers twisted into the fabric of her shirt as if she could still her heart hammering beneath it. 

Typically, after she dreamt of her night in the water, she came crashing back into reality with a sad, miserable resignation that broke her heart over and over again. This time, she didn’t even try to suppress the excitement that washed over her. 

_ Little one. _

There was not a single person on this earth that had ever called her _ little. _ She was taller than most, her figure sturdy. In his arms, though, cradled in his embrace, she’d felt _ so _small. 

She didn’t know how any of this was possible, but she no longer cared. He was real, and she needed to find him. It didn’t matter what she was leaving behind when she left here. She was going back to Cornwall. 

* * *


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

She should have thought this through more carefully. At the _ very _ least, she should have spent a couple of days to plan and think ahead. She _ should _have hammered out some well thought out arrangements instead of what she’d actually done, which was to hastily wake up, make a few phone calls to book a flight before haphazardly shoving random items into her bag and dashing to the airport. She’d almost forgotten to call her boss to make arrangements to take a short sabbatical. 

Luckily, Mei Ling was understanding, and she was fortunate to have a significant amount of yen put away into a savings account. Even so, there was a reason Makoto didn’t generally make impulsive decisions. 

This had become infinitely clear as she stood frozen in place, her gaze fixed miserably on an overwhelmingly large LED screen in the middle of Tokyo International airport. The flight arrivals and departures flickered, changed, and moved along the screen, driving her completely mad as she was continuously jostled by people who were all toting something with them. Some had rolling luggage. Some were dragging screaming children wrought with exhaustion behind them. Some were chirping curtly into the cell phones they had pressed to their ears. Every single person had one thing in common, though. They all had somewhere to be. 

Makoto swallowed, face pale, as her fingers clenched so tightly around the extended handle of her luggage that her knuckles were bleached white. She’d forgotten about the atmosphere in an airport; the noises, the people, and the fact that to get to Cornwall, she was going to have to step onto a creaky ramp and into the death trap that had killed her parents. 

The thought made her tremble and her empty stomach churned with a warning jolt. How could she have forgotten, even for an instant, how terrified she was to fly? A disembodied voice called for passengers to board the flight that she was supposed to be on and tears of frustration welled in the corners of Makoto's eyes. Because, dammit, _ she couldn’t move. _

“So… I’m kind of confused, Mako-chan.” The lilting cords of a familiar voice chirping beside her pulled a startled Makoto from the black hole of an impending panic attack. “They called our flight, didn’t they? I mean, not going to lie. I was definitely distracted trying to figure out where to go—” Makoto inhaled sharply, surprised to see _ Usagi _ , bright-eyed, arms crossed, an amused smile on her face standing beside her. “In my defense, this place is freaking _ huge _, like a maze for rats—” 

Makoto shook her head, confused, before promptly interrupting Usagi’s tirade. “_ Usagi-chan _ ,” she demanded. “What are you _ doing _ here?” 

The blonde blinked, cocking her head to the side, before gesturing towards a pink bedazzled suitcase behind her. “What do you mean?” She smiled innocently, _ too innocently, _before twirling a strand of blonde hair around her index finger. “I’m coming with you.” 

Makoto choked, caught off guard, and shook her head in disbelief. “_ What?” _ How had Usagi even _ known _ that she’d made the decision to go back to Cornwall? “Usagi, you can’t actually be _ serious? _!” 

She’d been fully prepared to do this by herself. In all of her mental ruminations after finally admitting that her dream man was real, she’d only ever pictured this ending by facing this head-on. _ Completely alone. _ So, it was definitely a surprise to see Usagi standing in front of her. Though, she was even more surprised by the small trill of _ relief _that silently unfurled in her chest. 

Usagi’s responding grin was blinding. “Of course I’m serious!” She waved dismissively, giggling with an excited _ this-is-nothing _ kind of way. “I totally need a vacation, and I don’t want to go by myself.” 

Makoto considered Usagi for a moment, brow raised in quiet contemplation before she sighed. “Usagi, how did you even know I was here?” 

The odangoed-sporting blonde grimaced, her cheeks flaring a bright red with what could only be described as guilt, as she cleared her throat. “Well, I went to the bakery to check on you,” she began, shifting uncomfortably. “And, well, Mei-Ling said that you’d made arrangements for a _ vacation _ . So, after yesterday, _ obviously, _I was worried about you…” 

Makoto’s eyes narrowed, brows drawing together into a suspicious frown. “How did you _ know _ I was _ here _, Usagi?” 

Usagi nibbled her lower lip, wincing at the tone in Makoto’s voice. “Well, you _ know _how when you book a flight, you get a confirmation email…”

Makoto’s eyes widened. “You hacked my email?!”

Usagi was quick to shake her head in denial, “What? _ Of course not!” _She giggled nervously, and Makoto sighed with relief. “I had Asahi do it for me. Did you know he’s big into technical stuff and he kinda has a crush on me?” 

It took a moment for Usagi’s confession to register, and Makoto blinked, still frozen in place. She fixed her confused gaze onto her best friend who had just admitted that she’d enlisted the help of her co-worker to hack into her personal email account. All so that she could drop everything, fly with her to a foreign country to follow a ghost man that lived underwater, _ that nobody else believed existed, _on an impulsive whim. 

She must have remained silent for longer than intended, because Usagi squirmed, a worried frown knitting on her brow as she flushed a deeper shade of red. “Look, I can say I’m sorry if you want, Mako-chan,” she blurted, her fingers fiddling with the bottom seam of her pale pink shirt. “But, I know how important this is to you. And _ as if _ I could ever let you get on a plane all by yourself. I _ want _to do this with you. Actually, it’s just as important—” 

If she’d let her, Usagi would have stood in that airport all day ranting. As it stood, Makoto’s throat was constricted with emotion as tears of love for her thoughtful, unconditionally supportive best friend began to build in the corners of her eyes. Because, without Usagi, she would have never found the strength to step onto that plane. 

Makoto choked on a grateful sob as she flew at her friend, interrupting her mid-sentence and nearly knocking her back as she wrapped her arms around her in an overly enthusiastic hug. 

She sniffled, trying to blink back her tears as Usagi hugged her back. “Thank you so much,” Makoto whispered, fighting through her emotions before quickly pulling away. “It means a lot that you want to come with me.”

Usagi’s eyes were saucer-wide, filled with sympathy, and glistening with her own tears. “Oh, gosh, Makoto!” she wailed, “don’t cry! _ Of course _I would want to come with you!” 

Makoto nodded, wiped at her cheeks, forcing a watery smile on her lips. Usagi sighed, smiling softly, as she leaned over and gently squeezed her wrist to comfort her. “Mako-chan, it’s totally you and me against the world, okay? _ We’ve got this. _ Just like I know you’re going to have no problem getting on that plane.” Usagi’s smile widened, her eyes shining brightly, as she took a small step back. “Plus, you brought snacks, right?”

Makoto laughed, the intensity of the emotion waning as Usagi hooked her arm into hers and gently guided her through the crowd to where they needed to board their flight. 

Makoto knew that she didn’t imagine the way Usagi purposely engaged her in endless chatter. It was a sure attempt to distract her, while they handed their boarding passes to the attendant who offered them a welcoming smile and gestured them up the ramp that Makoto had dreaded crossing. 

The pull in her chest, the one that she’d spent years ignoring, began to thrum and flare wildly in anticipation. She was going to find _ him _. With a furtive sideways glance towards her best friend, it felt like her heart swelled with hope within the cavity of her chest. Not only was she finally facing her past, after years of denying what she knew was right, but she wasn’t going to face it alone. 

* * *

The only benefit to a _ fifteen-hour _ flight was Makoto’s ability to figure out what her next move was going to be. At first, she’d been practically paralyzed by her fear of crashing, and she’d been on the verge of hyperventilating; eyes clenched shut, fingers curled around the armrests in a death grip as she imagined every horrible possible scenario. She’d whimpered miserably when they’d hit turbulence in that first hour and practically wept in terror with every clunk, click and the whooshing sound of the air pressure popping in her ears. 

Flying was a _ goddamn nightmare _, and she hated that she was being reduced to a puddle of blubbering misery when Usagi slipped down the aisle, bright and bubbly as per usual and stopped beside her row. With a brilliant smile and a twinkling brightness shining from the depths of cerulean blue eyes, she’d sweetly asked the sour-faced elderly man seated beside her if they could swap seats. 

It was only six minutes into one of her bright-eyed, laughter-filled rants —in which she ended up explaining, in great detail, the benefits of buying precious stone jewelry vs. diamond rings— when Usagi realized that the man didn’t speak a word of Japanese. In fact, the previously scowling man had been so entranced by Usagi’s exuberance that he’d let her go on and on without interrupting. 

She watched with an amused smile as the elderly man’s intimidating demeanor melted and softened under Usagi’s inescapable glow. Makoto wondered if her face softened like that when she spoke to the blonde as well, when Usagi finally realized that her words were falling on deaf ears. Most people would have been embarrassed to discover that they’d carried on a conversation mostly to themselves, and Makoto was prepared to rescue her friend as her English was reasonably decent. But Usagi just laughed, amused, as she attempted to spark a new conversation in severely broken English that made Makoto cringe. 

The man’s wrinkled face lit up as the corners of his mouth curled up into a grin. He gladly swapped seats with the blonde who plopped down beside her, sighing, without a care in the world. 

Usagi had done the impossible; distracted her with her buoyant and overly optimistic nature, successfully pulling her from the anxiety-ridden nightmares rolling around in her brain. Just like always, Makoto lost herself in conversation with Usagi. Her laughter was infectious, her stories entertaining, and the aura around her eased the pressure that was settled like a piece of lead in her chest. It was only hours later when Usa drifted off to sleep, nodding off with a snore, that Makoto took a second to recalculate. 

She didn’t even know where they were going to stay when they made it to their destination. With a sigh of self-disgust for being so disorganized, Makoto pressed the aid button that flashed for the flight attendant, paid the fee for Wi-Fi access, and began her research. 

When they finally landed hours later, Makoto had managed to find them a bus from Newquay airport to the small coastal town of Mevagissey on Cornwall’s south coast that had been her family’s yearly vacation destination. She’d also booked them a little cottage, which was about a ten-minute walk from the beach, on Airbnb. 

The cottage was pretty decently priced compared to anything else she could find at 107 pounds a night, which translated to roughly 14285 Japanese yen. She knew that her savings account was going to get eaten up fairly quickly at this rate, but she pressed on, pushing her worries away as they made their way from the airport to the bus stop. 

The last leg of their journey was the longest. Even Usagi’s unfaltering optimism waned a little as the blonde drifted in and out of sleep, headphones in her ears, as she shifted uncomfortably in the blue upholstered seat of the bus that jostled them around as it rolled along badly paved roads. 

For Makoto, the closer that they came to Mevagissey, the more awake she became. The threads that had curled around the very depths of her soul on the night that she’d stepped into the water pulsed, flaring brightly; reaching out as if to say that this was _ right. _She was going in the right direction. 

When the bus rounded a bend that was curled around a slanted, downward hill, Makoto’s breath caught in her throat, and it felt like time stood still. This was not the first time that she was faced with the sprawling beauty and charm of the little coastal town; quaint stone and wooden cottages dotting the dips and bends of the sloping hills and the lolling countryside. The whole village towered over a fishing harbor where the waves crashed against crumbling mountainsides. 

It was breathtaking, magnificent as red and orange streaks peaked beyond the horizon, bathing the whole town in the glow of the rising sun. It brought back a flash of an almost identical moment where the younger version of herself had pressed her face eagerly against the window, filled with excitement and pride that her parents had trusted her enough to come here on her own before them. 

She needed to avert her gaze, eyelids clenched shut as she took a deep and steadying breath. This was _ not _ going to be about her parents. She’d come to terms with their devastating loss. This time, she was here for a different reason. 

The bus came to a grinding halt, the tires screeching loudly, as Usagi flew forward. She squealed, her face smashing into the seat in front of her. “Ouch!” she winced, rubbing at her forehead with a half-lidded scowl. “Are we here?” 

Makoto chuckled, patted her on the shoulder sympathetically as she leveraged the seat in front of her to stand. After two and a half hours of sitting with her too-long legs crumpled in an awkward position in front of her, stretching them felt heavenly. 

The bus was only half-filled with passengers, so after they tiredly pulled their luggage from the overhead compartment, they didn’t have to wait long before they exited. Usagi, perky once again, called a very badly pronounced ‘tank wuu’ to the bus driver as she clumsily skipped ahead of her. 

The odangoed blonde lifted her arms above her head, groaning with exaggeration as she stretched. Finally, she stopped and took stock of her surroundings. “Wow, Mako-chan!” she gasped, tone laced with awe. “This place is so beautiful! The air even _ smells _cleaner.” She took a deep breath, eyes closed, before wrinkling her nose with a frown. “If clean equals fishy, I mean.” She propped a hand on her hip, a small smile curled onto her lips. 

Makoto smiled, taking a deep breath herself as she detected the salty, fish-like smell that was probably wafting over from the nearby harbor. 

Usagi took a step away from the curb just as the bus rolled away. “So, where to, Mako-chan?” 

Makoto grasped the handle of her rolling luggage and hooked her arm through Usagi’s, her heart pounding with anticipation. “Come on,” she replied brightly. “I booked a place on the flight. It’s not far, only a ten-minute walk through town.” 

Usagi stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and nodded sleepily as she allowed Makoto to steer her forward. This time it was Makoto that couldn’t stop talking as she pointed out places that she remembered. Including the Cornish bakery and the lighthouse cafe. She was surprised that the pain that laced through her wasn’t as sharp as she thought it would have been as she revisited the places that had been her parents' favorite haunts. 

It was actually a relief to let herself remember the good things about this town, including the tiny bookstore encased in multicolored brick, and the tea house that was such a common thing in the UK. 

Usagi was quiet, dutifully listening with rapt attention until they passed a small storefront that Makoto would have missed if Usagi hadn’t pointed it out. “Hey! What about this place, Mako-chan?” 

They halted in front of the stone building tucked in between an inn and the local tavern. It was small, unassuming, with a navy-blue door. The words ‘The Golden Crystal” were etched into the wood. What she assumed had caught Usagi’s attention, though, was the large stained-glass window fixed into the wall beside the door. It was impressive, a mixture of gold and silver, that was transparent enough to allow them a view into the front of the store. 

Makoto felt a tug in her chest, something familiar she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “I’m not sure, Usagi-chan,” she murmured with a frown as she took a step closer. “I don’t remember this place.”

Her breath hitched in her throat, something magnetic about the store pulling her in even closer as the sound of shell and bottle cap wind chimes, that hung above the door, rattled in the breeze. Her eyes narrowed to focus, and her gaze swept over the visible part of the storefront inside. She caught a glimpse of a man with angled features and short blonde hair, before Usagi’s hand lightly touched her elbow and pulled her from her daze.

“Do you want to go inside?”

Usagi sounded a bit awed and breathless, too, but Makoto coughed, clearing her throat as she took a step back and shook her head. “No,” she responded. “It’s probably best if we get to the cottage right now.” 

The blonde nodded slowly in agreement and, silently, they turned to make their way down the street, both of them lost deep in thought. Makoto couldn’t help but feel disconcerted, slightly off-kilter, and she wondered what it was that was making her feel that way. They probably both needed to get some sleep; adjust to jet lag and their new foreign surroundings. 

Makoto didn’t think she was going to be able to manage to close her eyes, though. Not with the wisps of excited anticipation and adrenaline coursing through her veins. 

* * *

“Are you sure this is the right beach, Mako-chan?” 

Once they’d arrived at the cottage that Makoto had booked on the plane —_ which had looked much nicer in the pictures— _they’d dropped their luggage, curled up on the only bed in the one-bedroom, slightly dilapidated, gaudy floral wallpapered dwelling, and promptly fell asleep. 

It was only hours later, still sluggish from the aftereffects of jet lag, that they’d sat cross-legged on the lumpy mattress and spoke about what was going to come next. The truth was, Makoto hadn’t considered anything past facing her fears, getting on a plane and actually coming back to Cornwall. All she knew was that she was so close to the mystery man that lived in her heart and the depths of the ocean that she could barely contain her excitement.

It was Usagi that had suggested that they go back to the beach where she’d first encountered him, and it had seemed like a logical first step at the time. 

Except that Makoto hadn’t counted on the crushing grief that would press down on her when they made their way back through town, going precisely the same way she’d run all those years ago, and stepped onto the beach she’d blindly found in the painful throes of sorrow. 

In the light of day, the signs that lined the shoreline— ‘DANGER- DO NOT SWIM.’ written in big, red block letters— were clearly displayed. The reasons for the signs were infinitely clear; the water washed into a small, looped bay-type area, where the shoals and towering mountainsides created the perfect conditions for dangerous rip currents and shore breaks. The waves crashed against the jutting rocks and the shoreline in furious droves. Everything about this beach screamed ‘_ Stop! Go back!’ _From the water-soaked, compacted sand, to the sharp rocks, and wood debris that littered across it. 

She definitely understood Usagi’s reticence as the blonde stared out into the water, nervous uncertainty glistening in her eyes as the crisp, cold air whipped around them, ripping at their hair and biting at their skin. 

Makoto tried to swallow past the beating of her heart lodged in her throat as she took a tentative step towards Usagi, her eyes pained as it swept across the water, too, as she struggled with her anguished inner-turmoil. _ So broken. So afraid. So painfully ready to die. _

Makoto exhaled a shaky breath, her fingers curling into the fabric of her dark-green tank-top. “Yes,” she choked. “This is the place.”

She would never forget that night. _ Never. _It had been such a painful mix of emotions. Her soul-crushing sorrow on land, then the glowing salvation cradling her against his chest in the water. 

Usagi tilted her head to the side, her expression worried as she met Makoto’s gaze. “Mako-chan,” she whispered, her voice carrying over the whistling waves of the wind. “You don’t have to do this. We can figure something else out.” 

Makoto nodded because she understood what it was that Usagi saw right now on the edge of the shoreline. It _ was _terrifying, but what scared Makoto even more was the way grief pressed into her chest, consuming her, just like it had that night. The only way to fix it was to follow the threads of hope that led right back into the water. 

Wordlessly, she kicked off her running shoes and white ankle socks, her bare feet digging into the dark brown sand, breaking up the surface that split like glass around her toes. 

She took a step forward, heart rate picking up a notch when Usagi grasped her wrist and gently tugged her back. “Mako-chan!” Makoto met her eyes that were wild, panicked with concern, strands of her blonde buns coming loose and whipping wildly across her face. “Are you _ sure _you want to do this?”

Makoto’s responding smile was soft, reassuring, and she nodded once. “I have to _ try, _Usagi-chan,” she implored. “I have to prove to myself that this is real, and I have to find him again.” 

They stood facing each other for a moment more, their gazes locked as Usagi quietly considered Makoto. Her bubbly, blonde friend was perceptive when she needed to be, and with a deep breath, and a slow, understanding nod, Usagi’s grip on her wrist loosened enough for Makoto to pull free. 

She didn’t look back, her strides long and impatient, as she made her way to the water. When the waves lapped across her feet, icy cold and beckoning her forward, a trill of excitement rippled down her spine. 

With one final shaky breath, her heart in her throat, Makoto stepped into the water. “Please, _ I’m coming to find you,” _she whispered, her words getting swallowed up in the sound of the wind and the violent waves crashing against her body, pulling at her legs, trying to rip them out from under her. 

It was only when she was waist-deep that she realized that she’d made a grave mistake. _ Something felt different this time _ . The waves were not like a balm, cleansing her tortured soul. This time they were _ just _waves, created in dangerous conditions on a beach that she was not supposed to be swimming at. 

With difficulty, she twisted her torso in the water, shielding her face from the punishing spray of the water. The pull wasn’t _ here _, it was somewhere else, and she fully intended to figure out where. She met Usagi’s eyes that were filled with relief at the sight of her wading back, when one of the persistent rip currents savagely crashed into her legs, buckled her knees and sent her tumbling backward into the surf. A silent scream tangled in her mouth that suddenly filled with a violent gush of water. 

The salt stung her eyes as she was dragged beneath the surface. She was panicking, limbs flailing sluggishly through the liquid as she tried to break through, her lungs burning with the need to suck in a breath of air. 

_ Oh, God. _She’d made a horrible, stupid mistake. Just like she’d done last time. Except now, her ghost man wasn’t around to save her. She could feel the void of his absence, just like she could feel the way the water pressed painfully into her struggling lungs. She was going to die this time. 

_ The realization crushed her. _ She didn’t want to die. She had a _ purpose. _ There was something she needed to do. _ Where was her ghost-man? _

She was despairing, getting unbearably tired when something grasped her arm. Suddenly, there were flailing, kicking limbs intertwined with hers. Along with a curtain of silken blonde hair that tangled around everything. 

It was Usagi who’d jumped into the water after her.

The realization that her friend was now in the water, in danger of being swept away with her, spurred her adrenaline as nothing else could. She wasn’t sure how she managed to muster the strength to kick, push and drag them both forward until finally, her feet managed to find purchase on the muddy, murky ground and her head broke through the water with a shuddering, desperate gasp of air. 

Makoto had her arm around Usagi’s waist, blonde hair wrapped around both of them, as they clawed at the sand, water-logged legs and arms painfully crawling onto the safety of the beach. With a choked, sputtering gasp of water, Makoto collapsed onto her back, her clothes and hair clinging to her skin as she peered up into the cloud-filled sky. 

Usagi fell onto her back beside her, and their breathing was ragged, as they took a moment to recover. 

Makoto’s vision blurred with tears of disappointment, her chest shuddering with more than just the effort it took to breathe again. Was she crazy after all? Had she actually only imagined all of this, and dragged her friend into the twisted depths of her delusion?

“I— I don’t think that was the right thing to do,” Usagi gasped beside her, her voice hoarse from coughing. “It didn’t feel right, did it? There’s something else we have to do, Mako-chan.” 

Makoto frowned, somehow finding the strength to tilt her body forward onto her side, lifting herself up, supported on her elbow, as she peered down at the glassy-eyed blonde that was staring up as if lost in thought.

“What makes you say that?” 

She’d felt that exact same thing, but, she’d assumed that it was just an instinctive bodily defense mechanism to keep her from drowning herself in the water. 

Usagi blinked, her eyes clearing as she wiped away wet strands of hair that were stuck to her face. “I just…” she sighed, pulling herself up to sit, sand clinging to her damp clothing. “I can just feel something, Mako-chan. Like how I knew I was supposed to come here with you.” 

Makoto’s frown deepened as she quietly studied her friend. It all felt so important. Like wisps of something that teased at the corners of her mind. How odd that Usagi would feel it, too. 

With a sigh of resignation, Makoto fell onto her back again, internally struggling with all of the emotions that had driven her into the water in the first place. “Well, that was a total bust, anyway.” 

Usagi leaned over her friend, blonde brows arched in surprise. “Well, I mean. It could have been worse.” 

Makoto’s lips quirked up into a sardonic smile. “Oh, yeah?” she muttered miserably. “How?” 

Usagi pursed her lips, brows furrowed in contemplation. “Well, we _ could _ have _ actually _ drowned.” She sat back up, rearranging the tangled mess of her hair. “Plus, I read somewhere that seawater is totally good for hair structure or something.”

Makoto choked on a bark of disbelieving laughter. “_ What?” _ she sputtered, her lips curling up into an involuntary smile as she leveraged her hands to sit up. “You’re so ridiculous, Usagi,” she teased, digging her fingers into the sand.

Without even thinking about it, she scooped up a hand full and tossed it into Usagi’s face. “I _ also _ heard that ghost-man beach mud is good for your pores,” she laughed, her heart feeling a little lighter as Usagi sputtered indignantly with a squeal of outrage. “Now take that unfailing optimism down a notch, _ please _ . Can’t you see I’m trying to _ brood _?”

Usagi’s responding, sand-filled, grin, was positively chilling. “I heard that ghost-man beach mud is _ also _good for that, too,” she promised, her tone tinged with a playful vengeance as she vaulted an even bigger handful of sand that landed squarely on her chest. 

The following sand fight, filled with contrived squeals of outrage and laughter, was not only _ fun _but it felt like a weight was lifted from Makoto’s chest. She was replacing the dark memories of this beach with something that filled her with laughter and joy, instead. It was the closure she needed, and Makoto knew as they left it behind —soaking wet, covered with sand, but smiles curled widely onto their faces— that she never needed to see that beach again. 

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” Usagi began, lips pursed, and chin jutted upward with determination. “Food. Like, _ lots _ of food. Then sleep. _ Then _ in the morning, we come up with a _ new _plan.” 

It sounded good to Makoto, and she nodded, though she raised a brow, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Also, maybe a shower? No offense, Usagi. But your hair stinks.” 

Usagi chuckled, shrugging with a nonchalant wink. “So do your insults.” 

Makoto snorted, feeling lighter, more determined than she had in years. If she was going to go on this journey with _ anyone, _she was glad it was Usagi.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

This time, the beach was exactly how she remembered it. The water wasn’t calm or glass-like. It was just as violent as it was the first time she’d been here. The tips of the waves gleamed in the moonlight as they curled, roaring with rage, right before they crashed onto the shore. The smell of the salt-tinged air assaulted her senses as the wind howled fiercely, whistling in her ears as it curved around her limbs. Almost as if it was trying to pull her back into the water. 

Makoto didn’t  _ want  _ to go back in the water this time, though. In fact, she was kind of angry that she was standing here faced with the decision to throw herself at the mercy of the waves yet  _ again _ . She was  _ done  _ with this beach. She didn’t want to step into the water and risk yet  _ another  _ crushing disappointment that would only haunt her when she opened her eyes in the run-down cottage where she was currently asleep beside Usagi. 

Her fingers curled into fists, nails biting moon-crescent shapes into the soft skin of her palms as she glared at the beckoning waves. It seemed like the height of the swells were building in tandem with the anger rising within her. The intensity of her emotions seemingly affecting the speed with which they crashed along the shore. 

There wasn’t  _ anything  _ comforting about the beach this time, and Makoto suppressed a frustrated sob as she collapsed onto the cold, compacted surface of the sand. With a deep, shuddering breath, she curled her knees into her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and dug her heels into the sand to leverage them closer. 

She made the decision to simply wait this dream out, humming softly to drown out the thrumming sound of her heart beating in her ears as she pressed her forehead onto her knees and closed her eyes. 

She’d come  _ all  _ this way to find him. She’d gone back to the water, and he hadn’t been there. Maybe she should chalk this up to an epic adventure that had given her the closure she needed and go back to the life she was comfortable with. 

“Juno?”

She sucked in a sharp, startled breath, even as she squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face against her knees. The coarse, nylon material of the leggings she’d worn to bed scraped against her cheek as she tried to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat, and her skin began to tingle with pleasure at the sound of his voice. 

She liked to think that she wasn’t overly insecure. Though, being told she was crazy with some deep-seated, grief-filled issues over and  _ over _ again for most of her adult life  _ had  _ done a number on her.  _ Still _ , she didn’t normally let herself drown in her self-doubts as badly as she’d almost let herself drown in the water looking for a ghost. And right now, she was  _ definitely  _ drowning as she walked the precarious line between firmly believing that she had a purpose that involved saving him, or that she was losing her mind. 

She felt the air around her shift, and her whole body stiffened with tension when the heavy weight of his palm settled on the back of her head as he tenderly smoothed back her hair. 

She shuddered, a whimpered moan on her lips as she flinched away from his touch. It hurt that it felt so real. It was going to be agony when she woke up alone. “Go away,” she whispered, feeling torn, and fighting every pulsing thread inside of her that was commanding her to  _ give in.  _ “If you’re not real, it’ll hurt so much worse this time.” 

She heard him sigh loudly beside her, the sound tinged with exasperation, and her eyes flew upon, lips parting on a startled gasp when the burly arms that had cradled her in the water roughly pulled her onto his  _ lap.  _ One arm hooked beneath her bent knees, and the other wrapped around her waist. 

She tilted her head up, feeling indignant, prepared to tell him to  _ let _ her  _ go _ , but her outraged protests died on her lips at the sight of him. While he was smirking, one brow raised with amusement, there was no denying that the hard line of his jaw and the contoured edges of his face  _ did  _ something to her. He was so beautifully familiar; it made her heart ache with longing. 

His smirk widened, flashing white teeth, as he cocked his head to the side. “I thought we were past this, little one,” he teased, the baritone of his voice a velvety smooth sound that made her insides melt. “I’m  _ very _ real, and I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”

Makoto swallowed and shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she replied, her trembling hand lifting of its own accord to run her finger along the curve of his jaw. “Where are you, if you’re not just in my head? I went back into the water to find you, and you weren’t there.” 

He inhaled sharply, his eyes flashing darkly, lips pressed into a grim line. “I’m sorry,” he growled, and Makoto was alarmed to see him wince as if in pain. “It’s difficult to project long distances, and I was too weak to come to you after the last time.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers. “Were you hurt?” 

Her heart began to race, breath caught in her throat as she curled her arms around his neck, experimentally running her fingers along the corded tendons in his shoulders. He  _ felt  _ real. “No, I’m fine,” she rasped, biting her bottom lip as his warm breath fanned across her face, eliciting a warm trill that rolled down her spine. “Where are you?  _ Who  _ are you?”

He opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut as his body suddenly tensed, shuddering against her. He buried his face against her neck with a growl of frustration. The sound was practically feral, muffled against her skin, and Makoto could feel the panic rising in her chest because he was flickering. He was going to leave her  _ again.  _

She whimpered, clutching at him tightly, “ _ Wait, _ ” she gasped. “Don’t go yet. Tell me what this  _ means!” _

He pulled back, the abrupt movement startling her as he cradled her face in his hands. His expression was strained as if all of his focus was being channeled into remaining with her. “I can’t stay,” he choked. “I won’t be able to project beyond Lyonesse again.” His hands framing her face held her head firmly in place. His jaw clenched tightly, the look in his eyes deathly serious as they met hers. 

He leaned forward, exhaling shakily with the strain. “This is important, Juno,” he whispered. “It’s my last chance to help you, so _ pay attention _ .”

She tried to nod because all she wanted was to help him —to meet him somewhere that wasn’t the dark, beach landscape of her memories— but he held her head firmly in place. Her brows drew together into a frown, confusion etched into her expression, and she was about to ask him what he was doing when her vision blurred and her mind flooded with images. 

They were hazy at first, indecipherable, but he grunted with frustration, his body vibrating with the strain it took to transfer whatever it was he was trying to show her. Only a few of the visions focused from swirling outlines to crystal clear snapshots. 

Her eyes widened, and she gasped, elated because one of the images featured a slender man, short-haired, with Romanesque-like features and piercing eyes. She  _ recognized  _ him! She’d only caught a fleeting glimpse of him, but she was ninety-nine percent sure that he was the man from the strangely magnetic shop that she’d passed earlier with Usagi. The one from  _ ‘The Golden Crystal.’  _

When her vision cleared, the thrill of excitement that unfurled in her chest was practically unbearable. She cradled his face, too, practically vibrating with excitement. “I know what to do!” 

The tension eased from his neck and shoulders as his grip on her face slackened. He sighed, weaving his fingers through the tangled, windswept mass of hair at the back of her head.

Her excitement faded quickly, and her expression sobered as she felt the threads that connected her to him flare and twist with rising panic. His form shimmered in and out again, and in a last-ditch effort to extend their time together, she curled slender arms around his neck, readjusted her position to straddle his lap, and slanted her lips across his. 

She was definitely  _ not  _ experienced at this type of thing. Her brooding disposition was off-putting, and members of the opposite sex had generally steered clear of her. So, technically, she should have no  _ idea  _ what she was doing. 

That was not the case, and she gasped against his mouth that was perfectly molded to hers. Her desperation to keep him here with her was as palpable as his desperation to hold onto her. 

She wanted to stay like this, right here,  _ forever.  _ It wasn’t meant to be, though, and he was fading fast. It was only when she pulled away, and he’d shimmered into a more corporeal form that she realized that she didn’t even know his name. 

She sucked in a panicked breath of air. “Wait!” she rasped, “what’s your name?”

The quickly fading look in his eyes was sad, wistful almost, as the corner of his lips quirked up into a half-smile. He mouthed his name, the sound barely audible before he dissipated, and she fell back onto the sand with a strangled gasp. 

_ “Nephrite.”  _

She collapsed onto her back, eyes glistening with tears as she fixed her gaze onto the mesmerizing, nickel-silver halo of the moon. 

She swallowed thickly, her eyelids getting heavy as they fluttered shut. “I’m going to find you,  _ Nephrite, _ ” she vowed quietly. 

She swore the roaring waves of the ocean stilled, going completely silent as everything turned black. 

* * *

She gasped, heart in her throat, as she woke up with a start. It took a moment for her vision to adjust to the darkness in the room, and, at first, she was confused, groggy, and disoriented. It was the soft snore, and the tuft of golden hair peeking out from a flower-patterned coverlet that reminded her that she was currently in bed beside Usagi, in the cottage in Mevagissey.

Makoto took a deep breath, swiping brown strands of hair out of her face, as she bolted upright into a sitting position. Usagi huffed in her sleep, shifting with a sigh of irritation for having been jostled with her abrupt movement. She didn’t have time to worry about being delicate right now, though, because the images of her dream— that she was now one hundred percent convinced was  _ not  _ a dream— flooded her mind. 

Nephrite. His name was  _ Nephrite.  _ Somehow, the name fit him  _ perfectly,  _ and she swung her legs over the bed, nearly tripping in her haste to find her running shoes. She was supposed to go back to that shop. She knew that she was because, in all of the strangely swirling visions that Nephrite had transferred to her, one particular one stood out. 

It had featured the man that she’d glimpsed through the stained-glass window into that shop. She needed to speak with him  _ now.  _

Makoto rifled through her half-open suitcase in the darkness, extracting her favorite green athletic zip-up fleece hoodie, and shoved her arms into the sleeves as she glanced over at Usagi in the bed. She bit her lower lip, wracked with indecision because she had no idea if she should wake her up.

It was still dark out, and a quick glance at her phone that Makoto unplugged from the bedside charger indicated that it was only four am. Logically, she knew that a store would not be open this early. That it would be hours, still, until the first peeps of human life would be peeking out of their homes, bringing life into the shops and restaurants that lined the harbor. 

There was a sense of urgency building inside of her chest, though, and Makoto knew that she couldn’t wait. Usagi shifted in her sleep, rolling over onto her side with another restless groan, and Makoto knew that she couldn’t leave her behind, either. 

With her mind made up, Makoto strode hurriedly back to the bedside, her ponytail flicking over her shoulder as she leaned over the blonde.

She bent down and gently shook her shoulder. “Usagi-chan?” Her friend could sleep like the dead, and she didn’t stir, completely undisturbed.

The invisible cords that formed the night she met Nephrite in the water, permanently connecting her to him, pulsed and vibrated with the growing anticipation. She was close. She could  _ feel  _ it. 

This time she was a little rougher when she shook her friend, her voice a little louder. “Usagi!” she snapped, “wake up!”

She was more effective this time, and Usagi awoke with a startled gasp. Eyelids laced with inky-black lashes fluttered furiously as she blinked up at Makoto in confusion. 

She pulled herself up onto her elbows, blonde brows drawing together into a frown. “Mako-chan?” She croaked; her voice still thick with sleep. “What’s going on?” 

Makoto inwardly groaned because, while Usagi had been extremely understanding about these things thus far, it was going to be difficult to explain to her that she needed to go to a shop, right now, based on a vision from her water ghost-man that she may or may not be head over heels in love with. 

She sighed, tucking an annoying rogue tendril of hair behind her ear, as she considered what to say to her friend. “This is going to sound strange,” she began, shifting on the balls of her feet, eager to  _ go.  _ “But we need to go to the Golden crystal shop. Like _ . Right now.” _

She anticipated having to explain herself, and a hastily crafted spiel was forming on the tip of her tongue, but it died on her lips when Usagi nodded, promptly sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed. 

Makoto frowned as Usagi stood, swiftly arranging her hair as she shoved her feet into her shoes. “Mako-chan, pass me my sweater?” 

At a loss for words, the brunette turned, plucked a white sweater from the ground where it had been unceremoniously tossed the night before and handed it to her. Usagi smiled, took it, and slipped it on, zipping it up all the way before turning towards her with an expectant look on her face. 

She blinked, tilting her head to the side. “Well?” she asked, her tone tinged with confusion. “Are we waiting for something? Or…?” 

Makoto snapped out of her surprised daze, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Yes! I mean, no. I’m ready…” she trailed off, swallowing around the sudden lump of emotion that was constricting her throat at the wide-eyed look of absolute trust on Usagi’s face. 

Usagi was the only person on this planet that had fully, one hundred percent believed her. Even when everyone else had whispered ‘ _ crazy’  _ and ‘ _ delusional’  _ behind her back, their words just loud enough to make her doubt herself, Usagi had remained unfailingly loyal. Refusing to abandon her when she was unbearably brooding, defending her to gaggling groups of girls that had once been both of their friends, and willing to follow her without question. Just like she was doing now. The sudden emotions of love and appreciation that swelled in her chest was overwhelming.

Usagi arched a golden brow, a soft smile curled onto her lips as she leaned forward and squeezed her arm. “Mako-chan,” she whispered. “You’ve got this, girl. We’ll figure this out.” 

Makoto swallowed, strengthening her resolve, and blinked back her grateful tears. “Right,” she responded. “Let’s do this.” 

There was something calm about Mevagissey in the twilight hours. It was as if they’d stepped into a different world that was still; totally silent except for the whirring sounds of nature that echoed peacefully around them. She probably could have basked in the silence quite comfortably all the way into town, except that Usagi, her usual, optimistically perky self, had taken it upon herself to loudly hum the Mission Impossible theme song as she clumsily slunk through the shadows in what Makoto could only assume was supposed to be her version of a sleuthing ninja. 

The brunette’s lips quirked up into an amused smirk, and she chuckled as she continued down the barely lit cobblestone pathways towards the store with the navy-blue door. 

It was the twinkling, almost eerie sound of the wind chimes hanging above the shop that indicated they were close. It was as if the wind picked up, an icy swirl, just so that it could jostle the shells and bottle caps to beckon them closer. 

Usagi must have felt it too because she’d gone silent, her expression deathly serious now as they both approached the store with caution. The Inn and tavern on either side were completely quiet, barely a light on and not a soul in sight. They halted on the sidewalk in front of the swirling gold and silver etched window, and Usagi shuddered beside her. 

“Feels a bit strange,” Usagi whispered, taking a step closer to peer into the window. “Do you  _ feel  _ that? Or is it just me?”

Makoto swallowed, her heart rate picking up as she tentatively stepped onto the stone stoop, her hand poised over the golden handle of the door. “It’s not just you,” she admitted quietly, clasping it. It was cool to the touch, and she cast a quick sideways glance at Usagi, who was watching her with wide eyes. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

It did occur to her for a brief moment that it was four in the morning, and there was no way that she should be able to enter a store this early. However, she was not surprised when the handle twisted without resistance, and, as if a gust of wind had hit it with a flurried vengeance, the door was yanked roughly from her hand as it flew open. 

The breeze outside picked up once more as it swirled around her limbs, practically thrumming with anticipation as it rattled the chimes and pulled her over the threshold. She gasped as it turned into a squall that whipped at her clothes and hair, stealing the breath from her throat as it lifted papers off of shelves, rattled carved sailboats, and artistic glass windows propped against ancient looking furniture. 

When she stepped into the room, practically by force and followed closely by Usagi, the door suddenly shut on its own behind them. The sound of it slamming resonated before the whirlwind in the room went completely quiet and everything settled, the sound sucked out of the room rendering it deafeningly silent.

“Whelp,” Usagi choked, “that was  _ creepy  _ as hell.” 

Makoto couldn’t seem to find the words to answer, so wordlessly, she nodded, her gaze scanning the interior of the shop that she’d only glimpsed the day before. This place looked like an antique dealer or a vintage artist’s playground. Everything that lined the walls, and stood on makeshift shelves, were placed in random order throughout the room. They appeared handmade and very,  _ very  _ old. 

It was so much bigger inside than it appeared outside, and Makoto suddenly felt overwhelmed by everything as she twirled around, searching the stacks of shelves for anything that might mean something. 

She exhaled slowly, feeling oddly disappointed as her eyes met Usagi’s. “I’m not really sure where to start, Usagi-chan,” she admitted with an apologetic grimace. She’d been the one to pull Usagi here in the middle of the night without anything even remotely resembling a plan, after all.

Usagi waved her hand with an understanding smile. “It’s okay, Mako-chan,” she reassured. “This is a  _ totally  _ weird situation that is not your fault.”

Makoto nodded in agreement. “Split up? Maybe look for something…” she trailed off, considering her words. “Something that feels important?”

Usagi agreed, twirled around, and disappeared in between stacks of dusty manuscripts, a bounce in her step, as Makoto slowly studied her surroundings. She felt lost, disoriented, and she stopped for a moment. Taking a deep breath to orient herself, her eyelids fluttered shut, as she searched deep within the pulsing threads that had guided her this far. It was a little ridiculous, and she felt silly at first, but the steady beating of her heart intensified until it was pounding loudly in her ears, and her eyes flew open with a startled gasp. 

Unbelievably, she was drawn to a raised, wooden podium that was two steps away from her. She swore that it hadn’t been there before she closed her eyes. She ignored that disconcerting thought as she took the two tentative steps towards it, breath hitched in her throat as she leaned over and her eyes narrowed onto what appeared to be a very large,  _ very old,  _ manuscript. 

She’d never seen a book quite like this; large and bulky, leather-bound, and tapered in crude meshed fastenings that curved through the thick hide that served as a cover. Her hand trembled as it lifted, and she hesitantly ran her fingers along the coarse texture before she gently pried her finger under the edge and carefully flipped it open. 

The pages were strange, unlike anything she’d ever seen before. They were thick and felt like fine bed linen sized with starch. It was unusual, clearly handmade, and also handwritten. The letters etched into the paper-like material curled into an elegant cursive script that took her breath away. Unfortunately, the words didn’t make sense to her, and her heart sank as she reverently ran her index finger along the seam, awestruck with its beauty and disappointed that it was in a language she couldn’t read. 

“It’s an interesting piece, isn’t it?”

Makoto jumped, a soundless scream caught in her throat as she whirled around, fingers clutching at her chest, to face the source of the low baritone that had practically given her a heart attack. 

She froze, eyes wide and filled with recognition at the sight of  _ the  _ man. The one from Nephrite’s vision. He wasn’t much taller than her, short-haired, and angled features that hinted towards a roman heritage. His expression was unreadable, eyes cool as they studied her face, his hands clasped patiently behind his back. 

Makoto was still in shock, sputtering for words, “I’m— er— I— I know you’re probably  _ closed… _ ” 

His brow rose in surprise, eyes flashing with confusion as he cocked his head to the side. Emerald green eyes scrutinized her face. “You think this is a store?”

His words made her stomach churn nervously. What if this  _ wasn’t  _ a store? Come to think about it, there hadn’t been an open sign or any indication that it was open for business. “Oh gosh,” she gasped, her expression filled with contrition. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed…”

He chuckled, waving his hand dismissively to interrupt her. “It can be a store if you need it to be.” Makoto frowned, snapping her mouth shut, feeling infinitely confused by that weird statement. She didn’t get a chance to reply because he turned towards the book, his expression wistful as he reverently ran his palm over the pages. “It’s a legend, written in Latin.” 

Makoto tore her eyes away from the man’s strangely sad expression and back onto the well-weathered manuscript. “It’s beautiful,” she praised. “Do you know what the legend is about?”

When he turned back towards her, the look in his eyes, steadfast and filled with something she couldn’t quite pinpoint, took her breath away. “It’s the legend of Lyonesse,” he responded. “Do you want to hear it?”

Makoto swore that her heart stopped beating in the cavity of her chest as the blood drained from her face. This was  _ it.  _ This was what she was looking for! She could have wept with relief, because in front of her, underneath the palms of a very strange man was tangible  _ proof  _ that she wasn’t crazy. Lyonesse was  _ real,  _ and she was one step closer to finding Nephrite. 

She wanted to weep, scream, or bounce off the walls while whooping with relief. Instead, she tried not to tremble, her fingers curling into the fabric of her sweater, as she nodded her assent. 

The corners of his lips quirked into a knowing half-smirk as he shifted his gaze back on to the book. “It speaks of two powerful kingdoms, one of them being Lyonesse, that were prophesied to come together with the joining of Silver and Gold, a Prince and Princess that would mark the beginning of an era of peace and prosperity.” The baritone of his voice was a low, velvet-sounding octave that pulled Makoto in, drumming up anticipation to learn something she was sure she’d waited her whole life to discover. “So  _ pure  _ were their hearts, that they were surrounded by only the most loyal servants.”

He paused for a moment, and Makoto was sure she caught a glimpse of self-deprecation curling onto his lips, but the moment passed, and he continued on. “Unfortunately, it was her Guardians and his Protectors that led to their untimely demise. Their love for their prince and princess overshadowed their ability to allow them to trust in their own judgment. They kept them apart, and it was the cause of their downfall.”

Makoto’s throat constricted tightly, heart fluttering in her chest because this all sounded so familiar. Like it was a part of her, and she held her breath as their green eyes met, and he continued, eliciting images in her mind that broke her heart. 

“When the Princess perished, the prophecy went unfulfilled. To restore the balance, the Silver Crystal enveloped her soul, promising her rebirth when another chance to join Silver and Gold arose again.” 

Makoto released a shaky breath, licking her lips, her mouth feeling unbearably dry when she spoke. “What happened to the Prince?”

The man’s responding smile was humorless, filled with anguish, “The power of the Golden Crystal put him to sleep. He can’t be awakened until she finds him.” 

It briefly occurred to her that the Golden Crystal was the words that were etched into the front door, and she wanted to ask him about it, but she couldn’t stop the burning question that bubbled up her throat and spilled from her lips. “And her Guardians and his Protectors,” she choked on a strangled breath. “What happened to them?”

He went silent for a moment, seemingly considering his words, but his responding smile was chilling. “Cursed for what they had done. The Protectors trapped here, in different realms, immortal; their bodies are frozen like the Prince they should have trusted. Their salvation bound to the Guardians who perished along with the princess.”

Makoto’s lower lip trembled, her vision blurring with his painful words. She was starting to strongly suspect that this legend was more real than she wanted to admit. If what he was saying was true, she was positive that Nephrite was a Protector. And if Nephrite was a protector then that meant that she was… 

She had difficulty finishing the thought; it was so fantastical in nature. She bravely met his gaze again, blinking back her tears. “Is this real?” He was quiet, his expression unreadable as he studied her face. Makoto shook her head. “How is this even possible?”

Finally, he responded with a tilt of his head, and a knowing look in his eyes. “What do you think?”

She didn’t hesitate. She knew the truth, no matter how crazy it seemed. “I think it’s real,” she responded, the words uttered out loud, almost cathartic, freeing her from years of doubt. “I think I’m supposed to save someone. He’s important to me. I think—” she took a deep breath, prepared to finally admit it out loud. “I think I love him.”

The corners of his lips quirked up into a soft smile, though there was a flash of something akin to envy that briefly crossed his face. “Yes,” he replied, nodding. “You did.” 

His words, though jarring, didn’t startle her anymore, and her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him more carefully. Who was he? Another protector? Nephrite had sent her here for a reason. This man knew how to save him.  _ He had to.  _

Makoto cleared her throat, her expression hardening with resolve. “In the legend, how does the Guardian break the Protector’s curse? You said that they were bound to each other. What does that mean?”

With a twist of his torso and a humorless laugh, he flicked his wrist and snapped the book shut. “Only when Silver and Gold finally come together, like they should have to begin with _ ,  _ will the Guardian have the power to free the protector that loves her.”

His words were cryptic,  _ annoyingly so,  _ and Makoto pressed her lips into a harsh irritated line. She was all about the whole mystery of this entire journey that she was being thrust into. Hell, it was starting to feel like this might be everything she’d ever wanted in her life. But if this guy really was a Protector, therefore also cursed, it wouldn’t kill him to speak plainly. What the hell? Didn’t he  _ want  _ to be saved? 

With a long-suffering sigh of irritation, Makoto rolled her eyes, brows knit into a reproachful scowl. “Dude,” she snapped, “What’s the deal with all the mysticism? You’re  _ killing  _ me.”

The cool, impassive mask that he’d been sporting since the moment he’d begun to tell her about the legend of Lyonesse melted away as he recoiled with shock. “I’m  _ killing you?” _

His face paled significantly, and his eyes swept down the length of her, his expression mottled with panic. It took a second for Makoto to realize that he thought that she literally meant he was killing her. 

She suppressed a grin, coughing to cover up a bark of laughter. “It’s just a saying,” she assured. “I’m not  _ really  _ dying.” The panic eased from his features, fading into relief before that indecipherable expression fell back into place. 

She bit the inside of her lip, studying him carefully with fresh eyes. It was only then that she noticed that he was dressed…  _ strangely.  _ Like he’d been plucked straight out of the pages of a history book.  _ How old was this guy?  _

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, considered asking him about it for a moment, but thought better of it, choosing to stay on track with the conversation that would bring her closer to finding Nephrite. “I just mean that I’ve been dreaming about Nephrite for as long as I can remember,” she explained, “ _ I believe you _ . The riddles aren’t necessary.”

He arched an eyebrow, the corner of his lips curling upwards slightly, and Makoto thought she detected a hint of amusement in that tiny half-smile. “Very well,” he conceded, tone tinged with amusement. “Essentially, to break the curse, you need to bring the Prince and Princess together. With the combined power of silver and gold, the Guardian should be able to kiss her Protector and finally bring him peace from his eternal torment.”

In all of his explanations, he’d managed to keep a fairly neutral tone when recounting a legend that was supposedly about himself. On that last sentence, though, there was a small hitch to his inflection that sent a thrill of dread through Makoto.  _ Peace from his eternal torment? _

Makoto’s breath caught in her throat, panic unfurling in the pit of her stomach. “What does that mean?” she demanded, her heart skipping a beat. “Does that mean Nephrite will wake up, too?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, gaze averted, shoulders squared as he busied himself with picking up the manuscript from the podium and tucking it in the crook of his arm. When his eyes met hers again, there was something wistful and sad about them. 

He shrugged, “I don’t know what it means.” 

She inhaled sharply, “What do you mean you don’t know? How can you  _ not  _ know?” 

His expression hardened, eyes darkening with irritation. “You are not the only  _ dude  _ in this room that was subjected to the  _ mysticism  _ of the legend, I’m afraid,” he snapped in response, throwing her words back in her face. “It’s the nature of the curse, Juno. I don’t know what happens when it’s broken because it’s never been  _ broken.”  _

Makoto’s eyes widened, surprised that he’d called her Juno just like Nephrite had. She could only assume that Juno had been her name in another life. Which meant that he’d known her. It confirmed her suspicions that he was  _ also  _ a Protector. “So, wait,” she blurted, taking a step towards him. “Do you know where Nephrite is?” 

He sighed, irritation dissipating as he turned towards one of the warbled, makeshift shelves and slid the manuscript onto it. “Yes, of course I know where he is.”

The chords of energy and purpose that connected her to Nephrite were practically vibrating in anticipation. “Where can I find him?”

His expression hardened once more as he crossed his arms, leaned back against the shelf, and regarded her hopelessly. “It doesn’t matter, anyways. You can’t save Neph without the princess,” he began, tone laced with resignation. “And trust me, she won’t be easy to find.” 

Just then, a loud, high-pitched shriek permeated the bubble of their conversation, and Makoto jumped, startled back into the present with the sound. She grimaced guiltily, ashamed that she’d completely forgotten that Usagi was here in the store somewhere. She wasn’t the only one that was surprised, apparently, if the expression on the man’s face was any indication. 

He pulled away from his casual leaning position against the shelf, posture tensed, his eyes wide and lips parted in shock. “Is someone here with you?”

Makoto frowned, surprised by his vehement response. “Yeah,” she responded slowly, tilting her head to the side. “It’s just my friend.” 

He snapped his gaze onto hers, eyes narrowed, “You don’t understand,” he hissed through his teeth. “This place is protected by a glamor. The only people that can walk through that door are Guardians. It’s not visible to anyone else.”

It took a moment for his words to register, but when they did, Makoto gasped, excitement building at the revelation. Usagi might also be a guardian? 

As if she’d heard her thoughts, Usagi’s voice rang out through the store. “Mako-chan!” she called, her tone, though muffled, was laced with urgency. “Come here! I found something!” 

She exchanged one last look with the shocked protector, briefly wondering if Usagi was somehow bound to him, before she twisted around, her strides hurried as she navigated the stacks of dusty manuscripts and carvings towards the source of her voice. 

She found Usagi in a strangely secluded corner of the shop surrounded by dozens of glass windows. Some of them fixed into the walls, some of them leaning against rickety shelves and threadbare furniture. She was frozen in place, posture stiff, head tilted upwards with her eyes fixed onto something on the wall. 

Makoto’s brows drew together as she approached, “Usagi-chan?”

Usagi’s gaze snapped onto Makoto, her face pale, expression contorted into a look of distress. “ _ Mako-chan, _ ” she gasped, her tone hoarse, lifting her arm to point at the object she’d been staring at. “ _ Look,  _ Mako. Who made this?  _ Where does it come from?”  _

Makoto craned her neck to the side and peered up towards what she was trying to show her. She gasped, pressing slender fingers onto her lips in surprise. It was another stained-glass window, this one just as beautiful as all the others except that this one featured her Nephrite, tiny blocks of glass carefully painted to accentuate his stern expression, the long, flowing brown hair, and chiseled features that she knew so well. In the window, he was kneeling over a sleeping, armored figure with a fringe of black hair. 

  
[ ](https://66.media.tumblr.com/d9140b1d2c222459de046549c3b0b97c/tumblr_pzlmyclUPN1tw7aovo1_1280.jpg)

Usagi stepped towards it, lifted her hand, and reverently ran her fingers over the sleeping man’s face. “Mako-chan,” she choked, her voice breaking with emotion. “I  _ know  _ this man. I dream about him almost every night.”

She opened her mouth to respond, still reeling from everything she’d learned today when an audible gasp from behind her garnered her attention and pulled her gaze from Usagi and onto the protector that was approaching her. His steps were tentative, his expression a mask of awe. He halted in his tracks, his eyes sweeping over Usagi, who was still staring at the window with longing. 

Maybe Usagi was the Guardian bound to him as she’d thought? The look on his face would indicate that was the case, but then... who was the man in the window with Nephrite? 

Makoto took a deep breath, heart thrumming with anticipation. “Is she your Guardian?” 

Her blurted question pulled both of their gazes onto her, and the man shook his head slowly, “ _ No _ ,” he rasped hoarsely. “The men in that specific piece are Nephrite and the  _ prince _ .” 

Makoto gasped with the implication of what that meant, and Usagi’s gaze darted back and forth between both of them. “Um, Mako-chan, who is this?” 

She ignored her friend’s question, unable to break eye contact with the protector. “So, that means that Usagi is… I mean— she can’t  _ possibly  _ be…”

The corners of his lips quirked up into a wide, toothy smile, and his face lit up with hope. “Yes,” he whispered, “your friend is actually our lost princess.”


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

She had to hand it to Usagi, her friend was good with  _ weird _ . Of course, she attributed that to the blonde’s generally optimistic disposition and the fact that she was  _ literally  _ a Princess  _ incarnate.  _ Which, Makoto consciously decided, made total sense as she watched her friend listen intently to the protector, whom they learned was named Jadeite, as he retold the legend to Usagi. 

Makoto wasn’t sure how she expected Usagi to react to Jadeite, who was recounting the wholly unbelievable details of the legend of Lyonesse with a look of reverence and devotion in his gaze. If  _ she’d  _ been told any of this before she’d spent her whole life pining for Nephrite and fighting the connection between them, she would have called him crazy and walked out the door. 

Usagi was a much nicer person than her, though, so she’d be more diplomatic about it. It would be completely understandable if she decided not to believe any of this. After all, believing that your friend had truly experienced something off the coast of Cornwall a decade ago was infinitely easier to swallow than the fact that you were supposedly a reincarnated princess that was the subject of some prophecy mired in  _ literal  _ magic. 

So, when Jadeite stopped talking, they both fixed their gazes on to the blonde with bated breath, waiting for her response.

Usagi blinked big blue eyes, tilted her head to the side, propped a delicate hand on her hip and sighed. “So, your name is  _ Jadeite _ ?” 

Of all of the things that she could have said, that reply clearly surprised Jadeite the most. The Protector blinked, his expression the very picture of confusion, as his brows drew together into a frown. “Um,  _ yes _ , Princess,” he replied, his tone tentative and riddled with uncertainty. “That is, in fact, my name.”

Usagi’s lips curved into a smile, her eyes glinting with amusement. “And, Mako-chan’s ghost-man is named,  _ Nephrite?”  _

Makoto knew her friend well, so she was relatively sure that she knew where Usagi was going with this. The brunette sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing as she rolled her eyes with exasperation. Poor Jadeite was probably used to the poised perfection of royalty. Plus, if he  _ was  _ immortal, he was probably a thousand years old, and totally unused to Usagi’s endearing, yet ridiculous antics. She almost felt bad for him when he nodded slowly, still so very confused by her questions. 

Usagi, in turn, giggled, pressing her fingers against her lips. “Do you know that I work in a  _ jewelry  _ store?”

Jadeite shook his head, opened his mouth as if to respond before snapping it shut and craning his neck towards Makoto. “I don’t understand?” 

Makoto waved her hand, suppressing her own amusement as she cast a reproachful look at her friend. “Really, Usagi-chan? You know that you just found out you’re a  _ princess,  _ right?” 

Usagi’s delight-filled expression sobered, and she shifted nervously, biting her lower lip, “Actually, Mako-chan,” she began tentatively, her expression sheepish. “I sort of knew that already?” 

Usagi’s admission startled her, and Makoto inhaled sharply, unable to suppress the sharp wisp of betrayal that jabbed at her heart.  _ She’d known? _ All this time? 

Her eyes widened when she noted the horrified expression on Makoto’s face, because she promptly shook her head, lifting her hands in supplication. “I mean, I didn’t  _ technically  _ know!” she amended quickly. “I swear if I had known that this was all connected, I would have said something, Mako-chan!” Her cheeks tinged red, her eyes downcast, as she cleared her throat to continue. “I just thought they were  _ really  _ vivid dreams. Like a really amazing, totally gorgeous figment of my imagination?” 

When Usagi lifted her gaze, the expression on her face void of her usual perky countenance, her eyes filled with wistful sadness, Makoto couldn’t help but instantly forgive her friend for not confiding in her. “I mean, don’t all girls dream that they’re a princess?” 

Jadeite had remained silent up until this point, his narrowed eyes darting back and forth between them, lips pursed, confusion etched into the contours of his face, clearly still uncertain about the context of their conversation. 

Makoto offered Usagi a reassuring smile before turning towards him. “So, we have the Princess,” she pointed out, gesturing towards Usagi. “Can you bring us to Nephrite and the Prince?” 

Usagi’s expression brightened, and she winked cheekily at the poor pale-faced protector who couldn’t seem to come to terms with the fact that Usagi was the princess. His literal salvation from thousands of years of torment a perky, silly, bright-eyed girl that made jokes about jewelry and his name.

He sighed, raked his hand through his hair, and tore his gaze from Usagi. “No, I can’t bring you anywhere,” his gaze was apologetic, misery etched into his slumped shoulders. “I’m not  _ really  _ here. My physical form is preserved in a tomb below us. I’m projecting myself, but I only have the power to project so far.” 

Makoto was not startled by this revelation. In fact, some of Nephrite’s whispered statements made more sense now. Usagi’s eyes, however, rounded with awe. She stepped towards Jadeite, tentatively poking him in the chest. 

“You don’t  _ feel  _ like a ghost.”

Jadeite raised an eyebrow, smirking with that doting look that was always present when faced with Usagi’s endearing nature. “That’s because I’m not a ghost,” he corrected patiently. “I’m a relatively powerful  _ projection _ . It’s an ancient sort of magic. It’s also what conjured everything else you see here.”

Makoto ignored Usagi’s gasp of wonder, the invisible cords of  _ purpose  _ inside of her pulling taut with its need to find Nephrite. “Jadeite, can you  _ tell  _ us where to go?” The mixture of anticipation and anxiety was present in the tone of her voice, raising it an octave higher than usual. “We’re wasting a lot of time here.” 

Jadeite’s eyes cleared, expression hardening with resolute determination. “Hold on, I have something that will guide you there,” he professed with a curt nod as he briskly turned and disappeared into the stacks of manuscripts.

Makoto exchanged a look with Usagi, an excited bounce in their steps as they wordlessly followed behind him. He was focused, eyes narrowed, as he stooped down slightly, running his fingers over the faded spines of ancient books. Every so often, he muttered under his breath as he pulled one out before shoving it back into place with a sigh of frustration. 

Usagi, filled with curiosity, hovered above him, her eyes saucer-wide as she perused the books with her gaze, nodding periodically as if she knew exactly what Jadeite was looking for. Makoto couldn’t suppress the amused smirk on her lips as Jadeite flicked Usagi’s trailing tresses of blonde hair out of his face more than once. She was impressed that he didn't voice any complaints about the fact that she was clearly in the way. 

Finally, with a triumphant, ‘ah, ha!’ Jadeite pulled out a dusty, brown leather-bound book and extracted a crumbling, yellowed piece of parchment from between its pages. His gaze was soft and filled with reverence, as he carefully unfolded it in his palms. 

Makoto leaned over it at the same time as Usagi did, practically bumping their heads together in their eagerness to see what it was that Jadeite had spent all that time looking for. 

The words scrawled at the edge of the parchment— the same cursive script as the legend— was also written in Latin. Makoto frowned, confused because it kind of looked like a crude, poorly drawn…

“Is that like a treasure map?” Usagi interrupted her thoughts that had been running along the same lines, nose wrinkled, and her head tilted in confusion. “Because I’m not going to lie. That looks like a treasure map from a cartoon or something.”

Makoto lifted her gaze, fixing her eyes onto Jadeite curiously. Because Usagi was right. It looked like a badly drawn treasure map. 

Jadeite’s smile was indulgent, “Precisely,” he replied, an imperious note in his tone. “ _ Well _ , it  _ is  _ if the treasure you’re seeking is the entrance into Tír na nÓg,” he amended, and he turned the parchment over in his hands, pointing out messily written numbers that looked like coordinates beneath a jumbled mess of complicated-looking lines. “ _ This _ is where you’ll find the entrance. It’s protected, of course, but this path will lead you to the drowned kingdom of Lyonesse.” 

Usagi’s expression mirrored her feelings exactly; it was wary, confused, as she cocked her head at a different angle as if that would help her read it better. 

“Hey, um, Jadeite,” Usagi ventured tentatively. “This thing is a bit…  _ tough  _ to understand?” 

Makoto nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s not easy to read.” She pointed at the numbers he’d indicated. “Are these coordinates for the exact location of the entrance?” 

Jadeite nodded, “Yes, these are the coordinates,” he responded, and Makoto exchanged a knowing look with Usagi who nodded, took a small step back and pulled her phone from her back pocket. “I assure you, though, that this map is the  _ only _ way that you will be able to find Lyonesse.” Jadeite swept his fingers over a strangely drawn sketch of what might have been waves? Or perhaps rocks? “There is no way you will find it otherwise. It’s impossible, completely hidden, and untraceable without these precise instructions. If you just—”

Usagi squealed triumphantly, holding up her phone. “Found it! Mako-chan we’re literally only a 33-minute walk away,” she professed proudly, eyes widening as she swiped her finger across her screen. “Oh! Look! There’s even a Google Maps street view… err… or cave view, I guess? Cause this is  _ totally  _ a cave.” 

Jadeite was stricken, lips parted in shock, as he craned his neck to the side. His gaze fixed onto the lit-up screen of Usagi’s phone in disbelief. “ _ What?!”  _ he sputtered, the map slipping from his fingers, fluttering to the floor as he yanked Usagi’s phone out of her hands. “This is  _ impossible!  _ The magic of this time is  _ truly  _ powerful.” 

Makoto rolled her eyes when Usagi nodded solemnly in complete agreement. “ _ I know,  _ right? I’m  _ always _ saying how technology is just electrical magic,” she confessed, shifting her blue-eyed gaze onto Makoto. “Aren’t I always saying that, Mako-chan?” 

Her lips curled up into a half-smile, and she shook her head as if to clear it. They were so  _ close _ , and though she wanted to stay and ask more questions about Tír na nÓg and the fact that Lyonesse was apparently a  _ drowned  _ Kingdom, they had what they needed. It was time to go. 

When they hurriedly left ‘The Golden Crystal’ with a thank you to Jadeite and a promise that they would break the curse, the sun had already risen, the reds and oranges softening the lines of the horizon. 

The urgency and anticipation unfurling in her chest spurred her forward, filling her with excitement because soon she was going to be with Nephrite. Then the ache of unfulfilled purpose in her chest would finally stop thrumming. 

Usagi appeared to feel the same because Makoto had never seen her so focused as she clutched her phone, her fingers curled around it so tightly her knuckles were bleached white. She had no idea what the entrance to Lyonesse would bring, but at this point, she doubted if anything would shock her. She was a  _ Guardian, _ and Usagi was a  _ princess _ . She wasn’t even surprised when she glanced back as they made their way down the street and noted that the navy-blue door tucked between the tavern and the Inn wasn’t there anymore. 

  
  


* * *

The thirty-three-minute trek to the cave ended up lasting two hours, instead. Very frustratingly, the pathway indicated in their phone that was supposedly going to lead them down to the beach, which would have been a straight shot to the cave, simply  _ did not exist.  _ They’d circled around twice, wading through snarled bushes, thick foliage, and navigating around jutting, rocky mountainsides that led to  _ nowhere.  _

All they’d managed to do at this point was circle back around to the edge of town where they’d started. Makoto, red-faced with exertion, sweaty, and feeling infinitely discouraged, was beginning to think they were going to have to go back to get the map from Jadeite when Usagi suddenly stopped in her tracks. Makoto was having a difficult time biting back the unwarranted, snappish comment that poised at the tip of her tongue when she almost collided into her back. 

Instead, she sighed, wiping strands of sticky, wet hair out of her eyes as she fixed her gaze onto Usagi, who was studying the rock wall with a contemplative look in her eyes. It wasn’t Usagi’s fault that she possessed the ability to remain unfailingly optimistic in the face of any situation. Normally, Usagi’s dose of good-natured positivity was uplifting, but, right now, the burning need to find Nephrite was almost  _ unbearable _ . That, mixed with the frustrating way they couldn’t seem to find what they were looking for, Siri continually telling them to turn right into a damn wall of stone, was starting to really chip away at her patience. Which made it really difficult not to snap in the face of Usagi’s daily dose of brightness.

She didn’t want to hurt her friend’s feelings, though, so she mustered what she could from her waning reserves of restraint and took a deep cleansing breath. “Usagi, what are you doing?” 

Her forehead creased into a small, delicate frown, one of her hands clamped onto a jutted hip as she tapped her chin with an index finger, lost in thought. “Okay, so, we’ve been going in circles around this rock formation that the GPS says is supposed to be a pathway.” 

Makoto bit the inside of her lip, stamping down her frustration as she nodded. “Yes,” she replied, “I’m  _ aware  _ that we’ve been going in  _ circles _ , Usagi-chan.” 

Usagi was too nice to point out that she was being rude, her sarcastic tone making a frustrating situation worse. Instead, she smiled. “Well, it occurred to me that, like, it’s probably magic, right?”

Makoto frowned. “I mean, it’s  _ possible, _ ” she conceded slowly, because, of course, it was more than likely mired in  _ some  _ kind of magic. This was the entrance to the legendary drowned kingdom of Lyonesse,  _ after all.  _

Usagi beamed, pleased that Makoto was listening, before she stopped again, her eyes going wide, head cocked to the side. “Do you hear that?” 

Makoto tried to quiet her raging thoughts as she stopped to listen as well. She couldn’t hear anything but the whistling of the wind and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. 

She shook her head. “I don’t hear anything,” she sighed. “Maybe we should go back to—”

Usagi interrupted her, a slender finger pressed to her lips, shushing her with an urgent hiss. “Listen! It sounds  _ exactly  _ like the chimes on top of Jadeite’s store. Except…  _ hmmm… _ ” Usagi pushed through the brambles of a wild rosebush, her steps hurried as she pressed her ear against the rocks, fingers pressing into the formation, tiny pebbles rolling down the jagged crevices with the movement. 

Makoto’s heart skipped a beat because Usagi was the princess,  _ after all.  _ Maybe she was hearing something that she couldn’t? 

She moved to follow the blonde that was making her way along the mountainside, alternating ears periodically as if that would help her hear better when suddenly, there was a gasp of surprise, a flurry of flailing limbs and golden hair as she just  _ disappeared.  _

Makoto sucked in a startled breath of air, panic rising in her chest. “ _ Usagi?!”  _

Without a second thought, the brunette barreled after her. She braced herself for the impact of smashing into hard rock, eyes clenched shut, breath caught in her throat. But, just like Usagi, she fell right through it, tumbling head-first onto the other side. It must have been her most ungraceful moment as she stumbled, coughing on a mouthful of sand as her chin bounced off the ground. 

Makoto groaned, wincing as she pulled herself up onto her hands and knees. “ _ Ow _ ,” she hissed, “that was  _ freaking  _ painful.” 

She lifted her gaze, eyes widening as she was met with nothing but what seemed like miles and miles of pristine white sand and crystal-clear blue water. Which was  _ not  _ what the water in Mevagissey  _ looked  _ like. It was as if she’d stepped from the slightly chilled air gusting through the harbor in Cornwall straight into some tropical Caribbean paradise. 

_ What the hell? _

She propelled herself onto her knees, wiping the beaded granules stuck in her hands on her sweater, as Usagi leaned over her. Her shadow shielded her from the sun that wasn’t nearly as bright as the blonde’s wide, white-toothed smile. 

She lifted her hand, gesturing towards something behind her. “See, Mako-chan?” she exclaimed with excitement. “I  _ told  _ you!” 

Makoto craned her neck sideways, flinching at the sound of a kinked tendon popping in her neck as she peered over her shoulder. Sure enough, fixed onto a strangely smooth limestone wall behind her was the exact same wind chime that had rattled in the breeze above ‘The Golden Crystal.’

“I think its guiding us, Mako-chan!” 

Makoto nodded grudgingly in agreement as she stood, making a note not to doubt Usagi’s instincts in the future. 

With an excited, glee-filled squeal, the bouncing blonde grasped her wrist and pulled her forward, tugging her onto the beach, the sand parting like finely ground powder around her running shoes. “This is just so  _ freaking  _ cool! Let’s go, Mako-chan! We’re so close to Nephrite and Endymion, I can just  _ feel  _ it!” 

Makoto cast Usagi a furtive sideways glance because this was the first time that Usagi had really even mentioned the Prince since she’d discovered that her friend had been dreaming about him for weeks prior to following her to Cornwall. 

“Usagi-chan,” she ventured, her tone tentative as they continued down the beach, the sweltering sun beaming down on them without mercy, the sound of wailing cicadas resonating around them. “Did Endymion tell you anything about all of this? In your dreams?” 

Her question managed to pull some of the bounce from Usagi’s step, her expression unusually guarded as she shrugged. “No, not really, Mako-chan,” she admitted, her tone wistful. “It’s always just been glimpses. Like his voice was stolen. But, he’s  _ always  _ appeared on my worst days. Like, I summoned him with my pain or something? I don’t know. Even though it’s brief and he never speaks, he always holds me.” 

The way she said it was unlike the silly, sometimes-flighty, clumsy, adorable friend that didn’t have a serious bone in her body. It offered Makoto a glimpse into something that generated a pulsing, familiar twinge in her chest. Like they’d once had this conversation before. Usagi was supposed to be with Endymion. Just like she was irrevocably connected to Nephrite. 

The moment passed quickly, and Usagi gasped, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she pointed to a lone, looming formation that looked exactly like the cave that they’d glimpsed in the picture on her phone… how  _ that  _ was even possible given that they were in some parallel tropical universe… well… she was tired of trying to wrap her mind around the clearly illogical semantics of magic. 

As they approached, the opening of the cave seemed to stretch bigger, the air grew colder, as jagged stalactites protected the entrance like teeth biting into an endless void of darkness. 

Usagi stopped, clutching at the fabric of her sweater. “Um, man, that is  _ scary  _ looking,” she whispered, face pale, her bottom lip poised nervously between her teeth. “Why does the entrance have to be a big scary cave? Why can’t it be something inviting and fun? Like… like a bouncy castle!”

Makoto stopped, snorting on a bark of laughter. “A bouncy castle? How is a  _ bouncy castle  _ inviting?” 

Usagi froze, her expression horrified as she turned towards her. “Are you  _ seriously  _ telling me you  _ don’t  _ like  _ bouncy castles?” _ She shook her head in disbelief. “You make me very sad sometimes, Mako-chan.” 

Makoto chuckled, opening her mouth to respond, when a loud rumbling growl echoed from the depths of the cave, startling both of them. Usagi squealed, burying her head into her shoulder blades as her fingers clutched even more tightly around the bottom seam of her sweater. 

“Mako-chan,” she whispered hoarsely, words laced with fear. “Just to be _clear, _a _bouncy_ _castle_ wouldn’t growl at us!” 

Makoto rolled her eyes, though she secretly agreed with that assessment. “It’s okay, Usagi-chan,” she comforted, taking a tentative step closer and dragging the blonde behind her. “It’s probably just a trick or something.” 

The words spilled from her lips with a confidence that she was not feeling, and she felt Usagi shake her head against her back. “Nu-uh,” she rasped. “That is a big scary animal, Mako-chan. Give it one of your cookies!” 

Makoto shook her head. “ _ Usagi, _ ” she chided gently. “Just because I like to bake doesn’t mean I carry cookies with me all the time.” She wasn’t going to mention that they were in her purse that they’d left behind in their hurry to leave this morning. “Stop being a big baby, Princess scaredy-cat. Come on! Let’s do this!”

Usagi squeaked when she clasped her wrist and forcibly pulled her through the cave entrance, carefully avoiding the stalactites as they pressed into the darkness. There was a strange invisible barrier of resistance for a moment that pushed the air from Makoto’s lungs, constricting her chest tightly before it felt like it pulled taut, popping, as it melted away. 

Makoto should have expected weird by now. She’d just learned that her soulmate was a ghost-like specter protecting her best friend’s comatose, thousand-year-old boyfriend. She’d discovered that Lyonesse was real, been to a magical shop of antiques, and fell through a rocky mountainside into a tropical paradise. It should stand to reason that she should not have expected to step into an  _ actual  _ cave. 

Still, when they crossed that initial barrier of darkness and stepped into what looked like a ballroom, Makoto couldn’t  _ help  _ but gasp with shock. She pressed her fingers against her mouth as her awe-filled gaze swept over never-ending reflective floors that gleamed brightly beneath spiraling crystal chandeliers fixed into vast, sweeping cathedral ceilings. Pillars of glimmering marble accented walls that were lined with ornate, golden etched doors that showcased only a blinding white light that lit up the room. 

“ _ Whoa.” _

Makoto couldn’t pull her gaze away from the mesmerizing beauty in front of her, but she nodded slowly in agreement with Usagi’s whispered exclamation of wonder.  _ ‘Whoa’  _ was definitely the right sentiment. 

“What are you doing here?” 

They both jumped, Usagi ducking behind her once again as the ominously dark baritones of a voice boomed loudly around them. Makoto swallowed past the lump of fear in her throat as her eyes zeroed in on a tall figure that emerged from the shadow of a pillar.

His movements were sinuous, like a well-honed panther stalking his prey, as he approached them. There was nothing soft about  _ this  _ Protector. Everything about him was hard; from the corded tendons of pure muscle that rippled through an old-fashioned white-ruffled shirt that would look stupid on  _ anyone  _ else, to the expression on his angled features, ice-blue eyes piercing into her soul, as he stopped in front of her. Long silver hair rippling over tensed shoulders. 

Makoto fought the urge to gulp as she straightened her posture, bravely jutting out her chin. “Jadeite sent me,” she replied, proud that her voice didn’t shake with the fear that he was eliciting in her. “I want to get to Lyonesse.”

His lip curled into a sneer as his gaze swept down the length of her. She felt like he’d just given her a cursory glance, judged her, and found her lacking somehow. Her fingers clenched into fists, because,  _ what the hell  _ was his problem?

He laughed humorlessly, “Ah, Juno. The Guardian who fights for  _ love and courage, _ ” he sneered, his tone mocking and filled with anger. “Go away. You can’t undo what has been done.” 

Makoto exhaled a small puff of breath in disbelief, lips parted in surprise, stricken by the way he was speaking to her. She wanted to retort, say something clever, but she was suddenly at a loss for words. 

Usagi cleared her throat, hesitantly stepping out from behind her. “Um, hi. So, I mean, first of all, you’re kind of mean?” she blurted, cringing as if she didn’t want to offend him. “But, also, I’m not, like, a hundred percent sure how this works? But I’m pretty sure _ I _ can undo what has been done.” 

The Protector who had towered over them, terrifying and intimidating, an expression carved in stone, suddenly crumpled to his knees at the sight of Usagi. His squared shoulders slumped, and the stone-cold mask melted away as he stared at her with a tortured, guilt-filled look in his eyes. 

“ _ Serenity,”  _ he rasped, lifting his hands in supplication. “I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. For failing you and Prince Endymion.”

Usagi was frozen, blue eyes saucer-wide as she exchanged a startled look with Makoto. “Err—” the blonde took a hesitant step towards the bowing protector. “It’s okay! Um, I forgive you.  _ It’s all good. _ ”

He sucked in a sharp breath of air, shaking his head vehemently in denial. “It is not  _ all good,  _ your highness. I do not deserve to still be here, alive, after what I’ve done. _ Please.  _ Wake Endymion from his prison, and then strike me down.” 

Usagi cast a pleading glance at Makoto, and the brunette could only shrug in response. She had no idea what the Protector was even talking about. Though, the words from the legend twinged something familiar in her mind. The Guardians and the Protectors  _ kept  _ them apart, and in so doing, had caused their downfall. 

If the haunted look in this Protector’s eyes belied the pain that she’d somehow been responsible for causing, Makoto was glad that she didn’t remember. 

Usagi bit her lower lip, her expression sympathetic as she took a deep breath and promptly fell to her knees in front of him. “Hey,” she began brightly, framing the sharply chiseled features of his face in her hands that looked so tiny in comparison. “Look, here’s the thing, I don’t really remember what happened, but I know that even if I did, I would forgive you  _ wholeheartedly _ .”

Usagi’s smile was soft, filled with such genuine kindness that it would have been hard for anyone to resist. The broken warrior kneeling in front of her was no exception. His eyes glistened with pain-filled wonder and reverence as he nodded slowly, accepting the forgiveness that Usagi gave freely. 

Her responding smile lit up the room as she patted his shoulder and propelled herself to her feet, clasping her hands with excitement. “Great!” she exclaimed enthusiastically. “Can you guide us in the right direction? Also, is your name, Topaz? Amethyst?”

The Protector stood, uncurling muscled thighs as he towered over them once again. Silver brows narrowed in confusion as he shook his head. “No, Princess.” Usagi’s face fell with disappointment. “My name is Kunzite.” 

Usagi grinned, “Ah, man,  _ so close. _ I don’t sell a lot of kunzite.”

Kunzite cocked his head to the side, frowning, just as confused as Jadeite had been. The tension eased from Makoto’s shoulders because Usagi, once again, had worked her magic. 

“Just ignore her,” Makoto chuckled. “She thinks she’s funny.” 

Kunzite’s eyes darkened as they slid on to her, and Makoto took an involuntary step back, “I would never insult the princess by ignoring her. Have you lost your loyalty, Guardian?”

Makoto arched her brow in surprise. It would seem that Kunzite was  _ not  _ a fan of hers. Usagi giggled nervously, patting his shoulder in an awkward attempt to comfort him. “Okay, calm down. She’s right, I was just being silly,” Usagi explained, pulling Kunzite’s super scary gaze back on to her. “So, while I’m all for busting a move out on this super pretty dancefloor, kind of want to find my Prince. Can you point us in the right direction, please?”

Kunzite straightened, his features hardening with resolve as he nodded curtly. “Of course, please follow me.” 

Makoto exchanged a nervous look with Usagi as they followed Kunzite, who strode with determination and purpose towards one of the light-filled French doors. He clasped the curved, golden handles and swept them open. The light that spilled over the threshold was blinding enough that Makoto lifted her hand to shield her eyes. 

Kunzite bowed, and with a broad sweep of his arm, gestured them towards the light. “This is the golden path made by the sun on the ocean,” he explained, his expression deadly serious as those ice-blue eyes swept back and forth between her and Usagi. “It will lead you right through Tír na nÓg, and it is the only way that you will be able to get to Lyonesse. The path is narrow, but it’s safe. As long as you  _ stay  _ on the path.”

Makoto frowned, her heart skipping a beat at the ominous note in his words. “Wait, what is Tír na nÓg, exactly?”

Kunzite’s eyes narrowed with irritation, “It’s the supernatural otherworld and the only place that would adequately obscure Lyonesse and Prince Endymion. It was a decision that was made with the other Protectors long ago,” he explained, his tone hard-edged and filled with that lingering tinge of anguish. “It’s a place of everlasting youth and beauty. Don’t be deceived or tempted to stray from the path, though. There are many creatures that would seek the silver powers you wield, your highness. Stay the course until you find Zoisite. He protects the entrance to Lyonesse.” 

Makoto nodded, her expression solemn with understanding even as her heart began to thrum with excitement and anticipation. She was so close now. Soon, she would be with Nephrite. This entire journey was amazing, thrilling, filled with so much wonder that it took her breath away.

She wondered if Usagi felt it, too, as she shifted her gaze to glance at her. Makoto frowned when the blonde suddenly burst into a gale of excited giggles. Her eyes were bright, full, and filled with mirth, and for a moment, Makoto thought it was because she was overcome by the excitement like she was. 

That was until the blonde bit her lip to suppress her laughter. “Mako-chan,” she began, her voice trembling with amusement. “Did you hear that?  _ Zoisite?”  _

Makoto groaned, clasped her arm, and promptly pulled the giggling, silly princess over the threshold and into the light of Tír na nÓg.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The moment that they stepped through the doorway, they were no longer blinded by the light, but completely enshrouded in mist. It was thick, their limbs sluicing through it as it brushed and molded against them. There was definitely something otherworldly about it, and Makoto shivered as the skin of her arms pebbled into goosebumps, the hair rising at the back of her neck. 

At one point, Usagi grasped her hand, slender fingers curling tightly around hers. Which was a good thing, because the mist was so thick, she couldn’t see the blonde even though she was standing right beside her. 

“Mako-chan?” Usagi whispered, her voice ringing out, echoing quite alarmingly around them, as the soft trilling chords reverberated loudly. “This is really creepy. Do you think we should go back?” 

Makoto swallowed, her heart thumping a nervous beat in her chest as she risked a glance over her shoulder. She couldn’t see the door anymore, of course. They had no other option but to continue moving forward. 

With a small imperceptible nod to herself, her resolve strengthening, Makoto squeezed Usagi’s hand. “It’s alright, Usagi-chan,” she reassured. “We can do this. Just one foot in front of the other.” 

Usagi didn’t answer, but she did start moving, and soon, the mist began to part, waning in thickness enough so that she could at least make out Usagi’s shivering outline beside her. They’d been wading through complete silence, so when the sound of crashing waves and the howling of a stiff breeze drifted towards them from ahead, it was practically deafening. 

It was very clear when they reached the edge of the mist. There must have been some type of invisible barrier. When the fog hit it, it curled in slow fluid motions, seemingly prodding at it, before crawling back towards them and swirling around their limbs. 

It was clear enough now that she was able to exchange a nervous look with Usagi, whose cerulean blue eyes were wide, a stark contrast to the neverending barrage of ghost-grey that surrounded them. 

Makoto bit her lower lip, hesitantly extracted her hand from Usagi’s, and took a step towards it. She lifted her arms, wincing in anticipation as she flexed her fingers and pressed forward. It didn’t hurt, but it definitely felt strange. Like she was walking through a vibrating sheet of water that pulled slightly at her body before snapping back into place with a brisk popping sound.

On the other side, she was once again blinded by the light, and when her eyes finally adjusted to the difference, she gasped. Her breath caught in her throat, eyes widening with awe. 

“Wow,” Usagi exclaimed breathlessly from beside her. “Mako-chan! This is like Rainbow Road in Mario Kart. Except instead of a rainbow, it’s sunshine? And instead of a big black void of nothingness under us, it’s the ocean!” 

Makoto slid her gaze onto the blonde, who already seemed grounded, bouncing ahead of her with a pep in her gait. The brunette shook her head, brows raised in amused disbelief as her frozen limbs thawed, and she took her first step forward onto the rainbow-but-not- _ actually- _ rainbow-road. 

The corners of her lips quirked up into a smile. “That’s an…  _ interesting  _ way to put it, Usagi-chan.” 

Usagi shrugged, her signature bubbly disposition back in place, as she skipped forward. “If interesting also means accurate, then,  _ yes.  _ I agree with that statement.” 

Makoto chuckled, the tension easing from her shoulders as she quickly lengthened her strides to match Usagi’s pace. “Well, whatever  _ this  _ is, just keep walking straight,” she reminded, training her gaze ahead of her. “We’re so  _ close. _ ” 

The blonde nodded, bobbing her head excitedly, an anticipation-filled smile curled onto her lips when the dulcet tones of a song, carried on the curving cords of the wind, reached their ears. They both froze, and the breath caught in Makoto’s throat as she became completely enthralled by the whispered beauty of the chords that seemed to twine together in melodic, perfectly sung harmonies. 

Makoto was the first to blink, shaking her head to clear the mesmerizing effect that it seemed to have on her. “What the hell is that?” 

Usagi didn’t answer. She simply swirled around and wordlessly moved to the edge of the vibrating road of light. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she cautiously bent forward to peer down into the swirling masses of water below them. 

Makoto inhaled sharply, quickly following suit as she nervously grasped at the blonde’s arm. “Hey, careful,” she admonished. “Don’t fall in.” 

Usagi took a deep breath and shook her head, blonde tresses flipping over her shoulders with the movement. “I know, I won’t,” she responded, though her tone was off-kilter. “What  _ is  _ that, though?” 

Makoto risked a glance down into the swirling waves below, brows drawing together, startled by the sight of rainbow-colored scales glistening suddenly just beneath the surface. She leaned over a little more, shocked when  _ something  _ rose from the waves; a slash of iridescent skin that seemed unnatural, but  _ beautiful,  _ as a woman's face smirked up at them from the water. 

The music was coming from her, and by the multiple swishes of multicolored swirls in the water, she wasn’t the only one. 

Makoto gasped when it dawned on her exactly what they were looking at. “Usagi,” she whispered, as if the lowered tone of her voice would help keep them hidden, “I think those are sirens.” 

The trilled notes of their song rang louder, more insistent, but Makoto was relieved that, while she was definitely mesmerized by their beauty, she was still in control of herself. “I think they might only affect men? So, we should be safe.” 

She nodded, relieved that the mystery was solved, and they could keep moving forward as she stepped back from the edge. She was ready to continue down the pathway when she noted that Usagi hadn’t moved. Her entire body seemed tense, poised dangerously close to toppling over. 

With a frown, Makoto cocked her head to the side. “Usagi?” 

She realized that she was the only one that wasn’t enthralled when Usagi slowly craned the slender curve of her neck to the side, casting a glassy-eyed look over her shoulder. “Did you see the cake down there, Mako-chan? So  _ good.  _ I need to  _ eat  _ it.” 

Makoto’s eyes widened, and she took a slow step towards the blonde, hands raised as if she were approaching a feral animal. She was afraid one wrong movement would send Usagi falling to the watery depths and the deadly sirens below. 

“Usagi,” she began, lowering her tone an octave. “Listen to me. There is  _ no  _ cake in the ocean. It’s only water and creepy siren monsters, okay?” 

She didn’t take into account that the creatures in the water might actually be listening to her conversation, and she flinched when the shrill screech pierced through the air around them. Apparently, calling a siren creepy was offensive. The cry was enough to send Usagi over the edge, though, and Makoto choked on a scream as the blonde graced her with one final, watery smile before simply letting herself  _ fall  _ over the edge. 

She didn’t hesitate, growling out an expletive as she barrelled forward and leapt after Usagi, who fell into the sirens clawed grips with a resounding splash. 

When she hit the water, Makoto sucked in a breath as she was submerged into the roiling swells that pulled and tossed her around in its grip like a writhing bit of seaweed. Luckily, she was used to getting pulled into the violent clutches of the waves, and she ignored the way her lungs burned and her vision blurred as she stroked her arms forward, kicking with every ounce of strength she could muster, to search for Usagi. 

Even though she was underwater, the cackling sound of eerie laughter and the clicking of teeth and claws was deafening as the sirens circled around her like she was prey. She twisted and turned, trying to fix her gaze on one of them, but they were like a whirlwind that made her dizzy, flicking their tails with the grace of a shark stalking a dying fish. 

She was running out of time now. The urge to breathe was practically unbearable as her blurred vision began to darken at the edges. The void of unconsciousness threatened to overtake her if she didn’t get some oxygen  _ now.  _

It was at that moment that she caught a glimpse of blonde, a curtain of silk sedately rippling in the waves from within the grasp of the siren that was clutching Usagi tightly in its grip. The creature screeched, annoyed, because Usagi’s hair was long, and, with her buns completely unraveled, her hair was  _ everywhere,  _ clearly impeding their view.

Makoto didn’t hesitate. She kicked her legs out behind her, clumsily pressing through the water until she was close enough to grasp Usagi’s wrist. With all her might, she smashed the heel of her shoe into the siren that was holding her, and, with an angry hiss, it let her go. 

She’d managed to get a hold of her friend, but it didn’t matter, because the minute she tried to pull the blonde towards the surface, the creatures attacked. Their movements were terrifyingly synchronized as they clawed at her legs and ankles. The twinge of pain sharply sliced up her limbs; their attacks merciless. 

She was going to die in the water, in a different realm, clutching onto her friend that had followed the promise of a damn  _ cake,  _ either by drowning or being sliced into shreds by scarily pretty monsters that shouldn’t exist.

The grief at the realization was painful as it coiled around her heart, and the threads that connected her to Nephrite roared out with fury, so angry that she’d come this far only to fail. 

She was on the cusp of giving up when there was a sudden flash of silver light. It erupted around them like a halo of saving grace, burning hotly as it chased away the sirens, whose unearthly squeals of terror trailed behind them. 

Without the relentless pulling and prodding from the creatures, Makoto miraculously managed to pull them up through the waves. She sucked in a greedy breath of air when her head broke through the surface, still furiously treading water as she hoisted Usagi up beside her. 

The blonde was dead weight in her arms, her head lolling forward, and the next five minutes that followed their daring escape from the sea creatures were the most terrifying five minutes of Makoto’s life. 

She tried to remain calm, keep the rising sobs of panic that rose in her chest at bay as she swam like their lives depended on it. For Usagi, it  _ did.  _ Because, she had no idea if her best friend, reincarnated princess, and beacon of brightness, had drowned in the water. Was she uselessly toting the lifeless shell of her friend through the otherworldly waters in search of land? She tried not to think about it as she pushed forward, pressing with every last ounce of strength she had left in her limbs. 

Five minutes felt like hours when a particularly large swell of glistening water fluidly washed them onto a beach of fluorescent colored pebbles that made a high-pitched twinkling sound as they rolled and clinked together beneath their bodies. 

Makoto didn’t have time to admire the beauty of the exotic beach they were on, as she forcibly pulled waterlogged limbs up into a kneeling position, pressed the heels of her palms into Usagi’s shoulders and rolled her onto her back. 

She choked on a sob. Usagi’s head lolled to the side, a pale cheek pressed onto the torn white fabric of the sweater on her shoulder. “ _ Usagi!”  _ she croaked, her throat burning from the water she’d unwittingly swallowed.

She trembled with terror as she pressed her ear onto her chest. Holding her breath, listening for the sound of her heart beating. She couldn’t discern between Usagi’s heartbeat and her own, so she sat up, and utilizing the basic skills she’d learned in high school, she administered CPR. 

She practically crumbled, sobbing with relief, when Usagi sputtered, coughing as a gush of water spurted out between bloodless lips. 

Usagi groaned, wincing as she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. She blinked, cerulean blue meeting her gaze. “Ugh,” she scoffed with an irritated curl of her lips. “What the  _ hell?  _ Those bitches totally promised me  _ cake!”  _

There was a moment of stunned silence as Makoto stared at the blonde that was nonchalantly rearranging her hair before her words actually registered. She could have cried, wailed, screeched in displeasure. Instead, she burst into a bout of uncontrollable, slightly hysterical laughter. 

“ _ God!  _ U— Us— Usagi!” she gasped in between breaths, clutching at her chest in a fruitless effort to will her thundering heart into slowing. “ _ What the hell?”  _

The blonde arched a golden brow, cocking her head to the side, lips curled into an amused half-smile. “ _ What?”  _

Makoto took a gasping breath and shook her head in exasperation. “Sirens in mythology lure unsuspecting victims into the water with their deepest, darkest desires, and you saw  _ cake?  _ Are you  _ serious _ ?” 

Usagi grinned, shrugging with all the casualness of someone that hadn’t just been dragged to the bottom of the ocean by  _ freaking  _ sea creatures. “If it makes you feel any better, it was totally  _ your  _ cake that I saw.” 

Makoto rolled her eyes. Though, she couldn’t hold back the smile on her face as she pulled her gaze away from Usagi to finally take note of their surroundings. 

Beyond the pebbled beach lay a forest of trees that she’d never seen before; twisting trunks in bright pinks and purples, intertwined and meshed together under a canopy of multicolored leaves. Though, if she had to compare it to something she recognized, she would say that the leaves looked like flower petals. 

She glanced back towards the ocean, sighing with disappointment because she couldn’t see the light path at all, anymore. Kunzite’s warning not to stray from the path rang uneasily in her head as she stood, unzipped her soaked sweater, and tossed it into the pebbles in a sodden heap. Usagi followed suit, ditching her shredded sweater, as well. 

“What do we do now, Mako-chan?”

Makoto shook her head, feeling discouraged as she turned to face the fretting blonde. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “We can’t go back. We can only push forward.”

Usagi’s eyes widened as her gaze swept over the treeline. “Into the creepy princess forest?” she squeaked before Makoto watched her tilt her head up, chin jutted out with determination. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do this.”

Oddly enough, when they moved across the pebbled beach and entered the whimsical beauty of the forest, the threads of uncertainty that were curled up in her chest like painful wisps of fear smoothed out before disappearing entirely. 

She wasn’t sure  _ what  _ it was that had mellowed her out so quickly; the strangely potent scent of sage and honeysuckle that wafted through the air, the soothing way the trees wispily swayed in the warm breeze, or maybe it was just relief that she’d survived the sirens in the water. Whatever it was, she was giddy, feeling like she was walking on a cloud when they happened to stumble into a clearing filled with people. 

They weren’t just any people, either. It was like they’d come upon a party for the elite, a mixture of Adonis and Aphrodite lookalikes all lounging on a marble dais, in gold-threaded hammocks surrounding a pool of crystal clear water. 

Regular Makoto, the one that was burning to see Nephrite and who’d spent most of her adult life wary and tortured, would have hissed through her teeth, grasped Usagi, and pulled them both away. Something was  _ very  _ wrong with her, though, because, instead, she giggled like a lovestruck schoolgirl. Her face flushed with the heat of excitement. 

Usagi gave her an odd look, her eyes narrowed as she turned towards the Gods and Goddesses who’d all slid their perfectly symmetrical gazes onto them. “Mako-chan, are you okay?”

The blonde was clearly not affected by whatever the hell was happening to her, and she wanted to reassure her that she was  _ fine.  _ She could work through this. But instead, she fluttered her eyelashes in an uncharacteristically flirty manner and sighed wistfully while her eyes perused the beauty in front of her. 

The tall, lithe form of a woman with endlessly long limbs and glimmering locks of purple hair, stood, and gracefully drifted towards them. The ample curl of her lip was curved into a winsome, welcoming smile, and the apples of her perfectly rounded cheeks were tinged with a becoming blush as she halted in front of them. She was swathed in a billowing confection of white, wispy material that seemed glued to the perfect dips and curves of her body. 

“Oh, hello!  _ Welcome  _ to the land of youth and beauty!” 

Makoto sighed, shoulders slumping with pleasure, at the delightful notes in her tone. She was  _ so  _ beautiful. She could stay here and bask in her perfection  _ forever.  _

Usagi had other ideas, though, because the blonde curled her fingers around her arm, tugging at her with a look of alarm on her face. “Mako-chan, something  _ isn’t  _ right.”

The Goddess blinked, flicking her gaze onto Usagi’s face, her smile only widening, flashing perfectly straight, white teeth. “There’s nothing wrong, darling,” she reassured, “Join us! Live peacefully,  _ beautifully,  _ forever.”

There were shouted cries of encouragement from the laughing onlookers behind her, and Makoto nodded. This seemed like a good idea, actually. Why was Usagi fighting it? 

Usagi’s responding smile was tight, uncomfortable as she shook her head. “No, thank you,” she replied politely. “We’re trying to find rainbow roa— the light path to Lyonesse?”

A surge of annoyance swept through Makoto. What was wrong with Usagi? Why would they be looking for something else? It was  _ perfect  _ here.

The beauty blinked, tilting her head to the side as she studied Usagi’s face. “Hmm, I don’t know what that is,” she admitted, a slight crease on her brow, marring the otherwise perfect smoothness of her complexion. “ _ You  _ shouldn’t know what that is either. Your friend wants to stay, darling. Why don’t you?”

_ Yes,  _ she wanted to stay. Why was Usagi being so  _ difficult? _

The blonde took a startled step back, her gaze filled with panic as she pulled at Makoto’s shirt. “ _ No, _ ” she croaked, her voice laced with fear. “We aren’t staying here!  _ Makoto _ !” 

Makoto scoffed, disgusted, and yanked her arm away from Usagi to step beside the Goddess. “Why are you being so rude, Usagi-chan?”

The woman smiled triumphantly as the others stood, slowly converging towards them, their eyes locked onto Usagi, who was stupidly backing away. Her expression was etched with disbelief and horror. 

“Sometimes this happens, darling,” the woman reassured, lifting perfectly manicured fingers to wag one at Usagi. “Every once in a while, a traveler that’s swallowed too much seawater can resist the flowered scent of the trees. Please don’t worry, love. We can fix this by having you drink from the water in our pool.”

This all made perfect sense to Makoto. Why wouldn’t Usagi want to feel this way? So content, so entirely in sync with the beauty around them. 

Usagi shook her head, taking another step back, baring her teeth angrily. “Get away from me, you psycho!” she hissed before casting a pleading look Makoto’s way. “Mako-chan, listen to me, Nephrite needs you. I  _ need  _ you! Step away from the soulless succubus!” 

Makoto was offended on the Goddesses’ behalf, and she gasped, outraged. She had no idea who Nephrite was. She wanted to live here, and if Usagi didn’t stop being rude, they were going to cast them out!

She lifted her finger, pointing it at the blonde angrily. “You  _ take that back!” _

Her reaction must have pleased the others because there was a chorus of laughter and satisfied smiles as they pressed forward, ready to forcibly grab Usagi and feed her the dose of untainted water she so clearly needed. 

Just as the first Adonis cutie swiped his muscled forearm forward, fingers grazing across the blonde, Usagi screamed, burying her head in her hands and sending forth a blast of silver light, just like she had underwater with the sirens. It was like a mighty sheet of warmth tore through her chest, and Makoto gasped, the wind knocked out of her as she fell backward onto the plush, spongy softness of the ground.

It was as if her mind instantly cleared. All of the strange thoughts about remaining here sizzled out with the burning brightness of Usagi’s attack. It was when she fixed her gaze onto the others that were also pulling themselves up, confused and dazed, that Makoto realized she’d been the victim to some kind of powerful glamor. Because these people were  _ ugly.  _ Their skin withered and creased with age, stooping postures, and rotting teeth. 

Makoto didn’t waste any more time. She vaulted to her feet and moved to stand beside Usagi, who was seeing them all with fresh eyes, too. “Oh, my God!” Usagi gasped, horrified. “How did I do  _ that?  _ What happened to the supermodels, and are you,  _ you  _ again, Mako-chan?”

Makoto nodded. “Yeah, It’s me,” she replied with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Usagi-chan.”

Usagi’s relief was short-lived, though, because the twisted forms of the stooped, former beauties were suddenly pressing in on them. Their leathered faces contorted into masks of rage. 

“What have you done?” one demanded, clicking sharp teeth together with fury. 

“Did you feel that power?” another one hissed. “I want it!”

While at first, they’d seemed less dangerous in these strange, unappealing forms, there was a desperation glistening in lopsided eyes as they stalked forward, hissing, that was so much more terrifying. 

Usagi squeaked and pressed herself flush against Makoto’s back, grasping her arm, inhaling sharply with fear. “Oh, my God, Mako-chan,” she rasped. “What do we do?”

Makoto swept her gaze over the little gremlins, noting miserably that they were completely boxed in. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and tried to stamp down the rising panic bubbling up in her chest. “I don’t know,” she replied, her tone hoarse with fear, “Can you do that thing? With the light again?” 

She felt Usagi shake her head against her shoulder blades and winced as her fingernails dug painfully into the skin of her arm. They were surrounded, more incredible creatures circling around them like they were prey. She supposed this time she should be grateful that they weren’t underwater, and she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and braced herself for an attack. It didn’t come, though, and instead, they were once again blinded by another flash of light. Except for this time, it wasn’t silvery or warm, and it didn’t come from Usagi. 

The former-models-turned-gremlins screeched, forced back as the figure of a man appeared enshrouded in a circle of sunshine that looked like it had ripped a hole through the threaded, invisible fabric of the atmosphere in front of them. She blinked, frozen in shock, despite everything she’d seen so far, as he stepped forward and Makoto met the warm chestnut hues of his gaze. 

Long-haired and strangely dressed like the others, Makoto had no doubt that this was the fourth and final Protector, Zoisite. 

The confusion etched into the angled contours of his face melted away into shock, then delight, as his eyes darted between her and Usagi, who was peering over Makoto's shoulder, wide-eyed, lips parted in surprise. 

“Damn! I  _ knew  _ I felt the power of the Silver Crystal!” His tone was breathless with excitement as he held his hand out, hurriedly waving them forward. “Juno! Your Highness! Let’s go!” 

Makoto didn’t hesitate. She clasped Usagi’s arm, her fingers pressing tightly around her wrist, and the blonde gasped as she roughly yanked her forward. Colliding into Zoisite and tumbling into the light just as the gremlins closed in on them, their withered claws a fraction of a centimeter away from sinking into Usagi’s arm. 

They were on the shimmering road of light again, the tapestry of threaded rays of sunshine vibrating warmly against her body as Makoto found herself lying on her back, panting, staring up into the vast expanse of a cloudless, blue sky. 

Zoisite leaned over her, casting a shadow as angled features, bright with delight, peered down into her face. “Wow, Juno,” he chuckled brightly, holding out his hand. “You are a sight for sore eyes.” 

Makoto grimaced, really feeling the multiple aching points in her body now as she pulled herself up and leveraged his grip to stand. Usagi was already standing, hands clasped tightly in front of her, the expression on her face oddly strained as her eyes darted anxiously between her and Zoisite. 

Makoto stretched a particularly kinked muscle in her shoulder, wincing as it popped, before fixing her gaze onto her friend. “Hey, Usagi-chan,” she murmured, stepping towards her. “Are you okay?”

The blonde blinked, eyes widening as she proceeded to nod. “Oh! Yes, I’m totally fine,” she reassured with a giggle that sounded a little forced. “I just feel like… um, well, it’s hard to explain. But, there’s like this urgent, pully feeling?”

The ropes of energy that had always connected Makoto to Nephrite were taut, thrumming almost unbearably in the cavity of her chest, too. So she knew precisely what Usagi was talking about. She nodded in response, offering her friend a reassuring smile before turning back to Zoisite, who, just like the other Protectors, was staring at Usagi with a look of awed reverence in his gaze. 

The long-haired Protector was practically beaming, and Makoto noted that his disposition was considerably brighter than the others. She wondered if that had something to do with the fact that he was the guardian on a road made of literal sunshine. 

“You look exactly as you did, Princess,” he praised, flashing her a wide, appreciative smile. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you,  _ both of you, _ once again. You can’t imagine how long I’ve been waiting…” he trailed off, his expression taking on a wistful note before his brows drew together into a thoughtful frown. “It was fortunate that I felt a twinge of your power. Didn’t Kunzite warn you not to stray off the path? What could have possibly managed to lure the Princess, powerful wielder of the Silver Crystal, away from the safety of the road?” 

He sounded very distressed, in total disbelief that anything could sway Usagi from her goal to reach her Prince. Makoto bit the inside of her lip, flicking her gaze onto the blonde with a brow raised in amusement.

In perfect Usagi-like fashion, the blonde didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment. With a deadpan expression, she shrugged dainty shoulders. “Cake. It was cake.” 

Zoisite must have assumed that the former princess had developed a sense of humor because a light-hearted chuckle of amusement burst from his lips. His expression only sobered when he noted that Usagi was not budging, blinking baby-blues innocently, totally unfazed. 

His eyes widened as he craned his neck towards Makoto, sputtering in disbelief. “She’s not serious!” he proclaimed. “... _ Is she. _ ..?”

Makoto couldn’t help it. She grinned, successfully holding back the bout of hysterical laughter that was attempting to bubble up in her throat. “She’s  _ completely  _ serious.” 

She didn’t give him time to respond, because the threads of purpose that wanted her to find Nephrite were becoming more insistent. “Look, I’m sure it would be awesome to catch up and everything, and I know you’ve been here for a  _ really  _ long time without anyone to talk to, but it’s been one helluva a journey, and I really,  _ really  _ want to see Nephrite now.” 

Usagi nodded in agreement, tension etched into the squared set of her shoulders. Her generally optimistic friend was fighting really hard to keep a smile on her face. “Please, Zoisite,” she pleaded in a very un-Usagi like tone. “I would like to free Endymion now, as well.” 

The lighthearted glint of brightness in Zoisite’s eyes immediately hardened with determination, and he nodded curtly, shoulders squaring with purpose. He twisted on his heels, waved his hands in a circular motion until another tear, like the one that he’d used to bring them here from the beach, opened up. 

Makoto’s heart skipped a beat, and she exchanged a nervous look with Usagi because the other side of  _ this  _ doorway wasn’t a sheet of warm, welcoming light. It was a rippling wall of dark, murky water. 

Zoisite graced them both with a reassuring half-smile, gesturing them forward. “It’s a bit jarring at first, but don’t worry. Nephrite will guide you the rest of the way.”

Makoto inhaled sharply, her vision suddenly blurred with tears. Because  _ this was it.  _ After all of this time, she was  _ finally  _ going to see him.  _ Really  _ see him. 

Usagi grasped her hand, and the look on her face mirrored precisely what she was feeling. “I told you, Mako-chan,” she reassured warmly, a smile curled onto her lips. “We’re in this together.” 

The brunette nodded, grateful, as she let Usagi pull her past a grinning Zoisite, through the doorway, and back into the water. 

* * *

Over the years, in her dreams, and in the last couple days alone, Makoto had become very well acquainted with what it felt like to be trapped beneath the violent swells of the ocean, with no way to make it to the surface.  _ This  _ was different, though, and the pressure that came with being on the ocean floor— without protective scuba-diving gear, no less— was painfully jarring, indeed. 

She knew to ignore the automatic instinct to inhale, well aware that it would be water that filled her lungs instead of air, and her limbs flailed, treading through the resistance of the water as she adjusted to the change. The salt burned her eyes, and she winced as her gaze met Usagi, who was clutching at her throat in evident distress. 

Makoto swam forward, grasping at Usagi’s wrists, her gaze conveying the message that she needed to calm down and resist the urge to panic. It seemed to work, and the blonde nodded, though her features were still strained, etched with terror.

They didn’t have much time before they drowned down here, and Makoto tried to take her own advice, calm her racing heart as she tried to surmise her surroundings.

It was almost impossible to see anything, trapped in the sunken ruins at the bottom of the ocean that was untouched by the rays of the sun. She tried not to think about what kind of sea creatures lurked in the crevices of crumbling stone as she released Usagi and forced her limbs to sluice through the ice-cold water. 

It was only seconds after she started swimming that something sizzled in front of her, a sudden blaze of brightness that exploded through the darkness in a blinding display of gold, red, and blue incandescent slivers of light. It lit up  _ everything;  _ the crumbling remains of what had clearly once been a stone stronghold, and the forest of seaweed and reeds writhing in the waves. 

  
[ ](https://66.media.tumblr.com/52828a4b94149c06908dd6eef45519fd/tumblr_pzlmyclUPN1tw7aovo2_1280.png)

Then her heart skipped a throbbing beat of longing because he was  _ there _ . Floating near the source of the light, long, chestnut hair rippling around broad shoulders. His grin of delight was unmistakable, his eyes glistening with relief, anticipation, and every bit of emotion that was currently exploding in her chest like tiny little starbursts of contentment.  _ Nephrite.  _

If she could have cried, gasped, or called out without drowning, she would have. As it stood, she only needed to blink and reach out for him, and he was there. Gathering her into the steel-like bands of his arms, crushing her body against the hardened expanse of his chest. 

The second that he touched her, just like it had all those years ago, the need to breathe was nonexistent, and the burning ache in her lungs disappeared. She smiled, the tension leaving her body as she let him anchor her to him, tilting her chin up to brush her lips across the chiseled length of his jaw. His arms tightened around her, and she wished that she could laugh, or speak to him, at least. 

Though really, she should just be grateful that she was no longer drowning, and she wondered what Usagi would say... She stiffened suddenly, eyes going wide as she twisted, inwardly cursed, wriggling her body around to face the blonde. The way that her limbs were flailing, her eyes blazing angrily as she clutched at her throat might have been comical except for the fact that her best friend was currently  _ drowning _ .

Makoto bent her torso over Nephrites forearms that were circled around her waist and wrapped slender fingers around the blonde’s wrist, leveraging Nephrite’s chest pressed against her back to pull Usagi towards them. The minute she’d clasped her arm, Usagi instantly ceased struggling, her body going slack with relief. Apparently, Nephrite’s ability to keep her from needing to breathe underwater had transferred to Usagi by extension. 

Usagi’s lips were pursed, brows furrowed in a baleful glare. Makoto was in the process of offering her friend a sheepish smile in the form of an apology, when Nephrite suddenly hoisted her against him, adjusting her in his arms so that he could grab ahold of Usagi, too. Then, in the next moment, he was moving, pulling them sideways into the light and through another doorway. 

It was like when they’d entered the cave on the beach to meet Kunzite. They stepped from the dark, murky depths of a ruined kingdom through a rippling wall of water straight into the lap of luxury. It was as if they’d stepped into another  _ world _ , and Makoto’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze swept over the brightly lit interior of a… was this a  _ library?  _

If it was, it was the most extravagant library she’d  _ ever  _ seen. A large fireplace with a white marble mantelpiece was the focal point for a room filled with all the luxurious amenities that belied royalty. Including, hand-woven tapestries with some kind of recurring sigil draped across stone walls, intricately carved floor to ceiling bookcases that were way beyond their time, and polished chestnut-colored tables with matching chairs that appeared to be strategically placed. 

It was strange,  _ out of place,  _ even more so than all of the fantastical things she’d witnessed today. 

If that wasn’t weird enough, the sodden, torn tank top, leggings, and running shoes that she’d been wearing from the moment she’d left the slightly dilapidated room in Mevagissey this morning, flickered. The molecules of the textiles and fabric shimmering and molding into a billowing, curve-hugging gown in emerald green. 

Usagi gasped, the sound filled with delight, and Makoto fixed her gaze onto the blonde who was twirling, dressed in a white gown of lace and silk that cinched at her waist and fell to the floor in delicate waves that rippled around her form. 

Her face was flushed with pleasure, her smile dazzling as their eyes met. “Mako-chan! How flipping  _ cute  _ is this dress?” she exclaimed, her tone laced with glee. “It almost makes me forget that you  _ almost  _ let me drown.” 

The corners of Makoto’s lips curled up into a smile because Usagi looked  _ amazing.  _ She was in her element. All of the optimism and perkiness that seemed to have been pulled out of her thread by thread on their way here was back in full force as the perky blonde squealed with delight when she discovered that the bottom of her dress had golden roses etched into the fabric. 

It was only when Nephrites palms settled on her hips that her own threads of purpose and need began to thrum back to life. Vibrating and flaring with anticipation and excitement because she was here, and she’d  _ found  _ him. 

She felt as the heat of a blush swept across her cheeks as she breathlessly swiveled around, her gown swishing around her legs with the movement until she was facing him. He was wearing a strange, ruffled shirt, the material coarse under her fingertips as she tilted her chin up, lips parted, eyes wide with wonder as she fixed her gaze onto the warm hickory hues of his eyes. 

He was so  _ beautiful,  _ and her breath caught in her throat as he cocked his head to the side, an amused half-smirk on his lips, creases wrinkling the corners of his eyes as they swept over her face with a tenderness that made her want to squeal like the lovestruck girl that she was. 

Her eyes welled with tears, and she sniffled, completely overcome with emotion. 

Nephrite chuckled, the sound velvety and deep, rumbling in his chest as he brushed his knuckles across her cheek. Gently wiping away a tear that managed to spill from her eyes despite her attempt to blink them back. 

“I don’t remember that you were this emotional before, little one,” he chided, his tone light and loving. “I’ve decided that I don’t like to see you cry.” 

Makoto snorted, smirking through her tears, “Well, that’s too  _ bad,  _ Nephrite. That’s what you get for unceremoniously sweeping into my life and then burrowing into my very soul, invading my thoughts, literally destroying my social—”

He interrupted her tirade, swallowing her words with his mouth that pressed against hers. Their lips molding together in a perfect, breathtaking,  _ mind-blowing  _ kiss. 

They pulled apart when Usagi loudly cleared her throat behind them. “Oh, hey,” she enunciated, brows raised with amusement. “Remember me? Reincarnated Princess? Salvation to the Kingdoms, and all that?” 

Makoto blushed even as she rolled her eyes, reluctantly pulling herself out of Nephrite’s embrace to face her friend. “ _ Yes,  _ Usagi-chan. How could I ever forget about you and your unfailing optimism?”

Usagi cocked her head to the side, “Right, of course you would never actually forget about me,” she agreed, her expression deadpan. “Oh! Except for that time… like five minutes ago, when I was  _ drowning.”  _

Makoto grimaced, “I’m so sorry, I—” 

Usagi giggled, the sound as soothing as the twinkling wind chimes that had guided them here as she lightly punched the brunette in the shoulder. “I’m  _ kidding,”  _ she reassured with a very un-princess-like snort as she flicked her gaze onto Nephrite, whose eyes were narrowed, clearly as confused by her disposition as all the other Protectors had been before him. “It’s nice to meet you, water-ghost-man. Can you bring me to Endymion now, please?” 

Just like it had with the rest of them, Nephrite stiffened, and his expression hardened with that  _ purpose  _ that seemed to be a driving force with all of them at the mention of Endymion. He nodded curtly and turned to lead them to wherever Usagi’s prince was lying comatose, waiting for her to break the curse. 

An involuntary rope of dread coiled in Makoto’s chest, suddenly, and she sucked in a breath of air, the blood draining from her face as she leaned forward and caught his hand in hers. He probably could have pulled away easily and kept going to where it was that she knew they needed to be, but he stopped in his tracks. Peering down at her, frowning, eyes filled with confusion. 

“What is it, little one?”

She swallowed, clutching at his hand more tightly, afraid that… well, she wasn’t really sure  _ what _ it was that was making her stomach churn with terror. She couldn’t pinpoint  _ why _ she was suddenly afraid. 

When she didn’t respond, her eyes more than likely conveying the emotion roiling inside of her, he offered her a tender, reassuring smile, comfortingly squeezing her hand. 

“It’s alright, you can let go, Juno. This is why you’re here.” 

She nodded slowly, and then she  _ did  _ let him go, but she couldn’t help the nervous twinge resonating at the back of her mind. She was here for him,  _ wasn’t she? _

He guided them through winding halls that were just as luxurious as the library, and she noted that Usagi’s gait became more hurried, anxiety-ridden with each step they took. 

Finally, they reached the end of a hall, and Nephrite’s gaze was solemn as he pulled at a brass handle that clicked loudly as he tugged a wooden door open. He had to duck to step over the threshold, and there was a loud, audible whooshing sound as the room lit up, torches fixed to the walls in curved, golden fastenings suddenly blazing with flames. 

Makoto froze, eyes widening as they fixed onto Endymion. He wasn’t lying armored on a marble slab like he’d been portrayed in the beautiful stained-glass window in Jadeite’s shop. Instead, his prone figure lay in the middle of a four-postered bed, dressed in the comfortable, vintage style just like the others. 

It was hard to imagine that he’d been lying there for thousands of years, because he looked untouched, still, and completely at peace with relaxed facial features and a fringe of inky-black hair that had fallen onto his forehead. 

She was startled by the sound of Usagi whimpering softly beside her, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away as the blonde slowly stepped forward, as if in a daze, curling her fingers into the fabric of her dress, bunching it up to she could kneel on the bed beside him. 

Makoto was sure tears were glistening on her cheeks as Usagi brushed his hair back, tenderly caressing his cheek with a heart-wrenching expression of longing on her face. 

It was such an intimate moment, and Makoto knew that she probably should have looked away, but she couldn’t tear her gaze off of the couple. She was filled with awe and wonder because it was so  _ clear  _ just by looking at them that they were two halves that were only whole when they were together. 

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what it was that Usagi needed to do to wake him up, but the blonde already seemed to know. She gently cradled his face in tiny, delicate hands, and closed her eyes, long black lashes fanned the top of pink-tinged cheeks as she lowered her head and chastely brushed her lips across his. 

Makoto  _ felt  _ the shift in the air when he woke up. Everything in her chest became a little lighter, and the atmosphere around them swirled and shifted. She imagined tiny sparks of gold and silver twirling, twisting and meshing in perfect harmony when Usagi pulled away, and Endymion’s eyes flew open. 

There wasn’t a gasp of startled confusion. He didn’t frown or move away abruptly in shock. The prince simply smiled. “ _ Serenity _ ,” he rasped, “I’ve missed you.” 

It was when he curled his arms around her waist, deftly flipping the giggling blonde onto her back beside him, that Makoto knew it was time to discreetly exit the room. 

Nephrite was of the same mind, and he grasped her wrist, grinning brightly, as he tugged her back over the threshold and quietly shut the door behind them. 

Wordlessly they faced each other, silently coming to terms with all of the overwhelming pieces of emotion that washed over them in waves. The curse was broken, she felt it in her heart, but the threads of purpose inside of her still pulsed with impatience. 

Now Makoto knew why. 

Silver and Gold were reunited, and it was time to kiss the love of her life and free him from  _ his  _ curse. Releasing him from his prison of eternal torment. But… what if that meant that….

The thought that she might lose him after just finding him was too painful to finish, and Makoto refused to believe that was how it was going to end for them. Just to prove it, the brunette flew forward, curling her arms around his neck with a whimpered moan of desperation and roughly pressed her lips onto his. 

He felt it too, and his groan was feral as the sound vibrated against her mouth. He buried his fingers into her hair, unraveling her ponytail under his deliciously rough ministrations as he coaxed her lips into parting, his tongue delving greedily in between them. It was  _ perfection _ . The most erotic and passionate moment of her life until… until  _ something _ changed. 

It was like her dreams all over again as the strongly corded muscles in his shoulders started to flicker beneath her hands. Her eyes flew open, and she gasped into his mouth, alarmed as his whole body began to fade, and with it, the pulsing threads of purpose fixed into her heart. 

She pulled away with an anguished cry of disbelief, “ _ No!”  _ The denial tore from her lips, even as his eyes widened, and her hands fell through the now corporeal version of him. “ _ Neph,  _ please, I  _ love you.  _ Don’t leave me!”

It didn’t matter, though. Nephrite didn’t get to respond, because he flickered one last time before disappearing like the wisp of light that he’d always been. 

Makoto choked on a broken sob of despair, stumbling backward into the wall as trembling fingers clutched at her chest.  _ She couldn’t feel it anymore. _ It wasn’t there. The ropes of energy that connected her to Nephrite were just  _ gone.  _ She knew now what Jadeite had meant about ending their torment. 

They were the Guardians and Protectors responsible for the downfall of their young, royal, infinitely powerful charges. They’d failed them. Nephrite had been doomed for thousands of years to live as a shell with that knowledge. She was lucky to have been reborn without it. Now, though, she’d freed Nephrite from his torment and was bound to begin  _ hers.  _ He was  _ gone, _ and they didn’t get a happily ever after. 

The sorrow and grief raging through her with the loss was unbearable, and she crumpled to the ground, sobs wracking her body as she curled her arms around her midsection. It was challenging to come to terms with the reality of this curse that she  _ couldn’t _ even  _ remember _ . 

When her tears subsided, fury flared right beside her sorrow. This  _ wasn’t _ fair, and she knew exactly how she was going to beat this curse. If they couldn’t be together in this life, they would be together in the next one.

The moment she made the decision, a calm, numb feeling swept through her. Her eyes hardened with determination. She angrily wiped away the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand, and clutched at the wall behind her, leveraging it to stand. 

Her strides were purposeful, filled with determination as she went back the way that they’d come with Nephrite to find Endymion. There was a pang of regret in her chest because she would have liked to say goodbye to Usagi, but she only hoped her friend would understand as she halted, poised and ready, in front of the rippling portal that led underwater. 

She wasn’t particularly fond of the fact that she was going to drown, but it seemed fitting given that the first time she’d met Nephrite was in the water. She clenched her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and blindly took a step forward. She was prepared for the impact of the water pressing down on her, the pressure popping painfully in her ears. So, when she met resistance, something pulling her back, the furious growl that spilled from her lips was automatic. 

It took a moment before it registered that the resistance was two hands clamped tightly onto the curve of her waist, fingers digging painfully into her hips. She gasped, shocked when they swiveled her around, and she collided roughly into the hardened expanse of Nephrite’s chest. 

His jaw was clenched tightly, tendons pulsing in his neck, his eyes flashing down at her angrily as he roughly grasped her chin in his hand and forcibly tilted it upward so that her gaze met his. 

“What are you  _ doing?”  _ he growled through gritted teeth. “You’ll drown if you step out there!”

The words were poised on the tip of her tongue, because, how could she tell him how she’d felt so grief-stricken, her heart aching painfully at the thought of going on without him that she’d been willing to end it all? 

In retrospect, it was stupid, and the exact same thing she’d done the night her parents had died. It was so much easier to think clearly when he was here, holding her. 

She choked on a strangled breath, another sob bubbling up her throat. “I thought you were  _ dead,  _ Neph.” 

His brows rose, surprised by her admission, and the groan that tore from his lips was pained and filled with fury. “So, you were going to step out there on  _ purpose?”  _

She averted her gaze, nodding curtly, her face burning with the confession. 

“Look at me, Juno.” 

The tone of his voice was stern, angry, and it left no room for argument. Makoto winced before slowly lifting her gaze to meet his. 

He released her chin, cradling her face in his hands instead. “I’m  _ not  _ dead. You broke the curse, and my projection was being pulled back into my body.  _ But  _ if I had been, It would devastate me to know that you would throw your life away like that.” His expression softened as he leaned down and brushed his lips across the tip of her nose. “Don’t do that again.  _ Promise  _ me.” 

Makoto nodded, the connection between them vibrating once again. It blossomed and unfurled in her chest, spreading throughout her in warm waves of pleasure. The driving urgency, the tortured thrumming, all of that was gone. It was now just a joy-filled feeling of absolute perfection. 

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, curling against him like a content cat. “I promise, Neph.” 

She’d appeased him, and the tension in his body eased. He chuckled softly as he pressed his lips against the shell of her ear, tenderly stroking her hair. “By the way, I love you, too, little one.” 

She shivered in his embrace, eyes fluttering shut with a pleasure-filled sigh elicited by his admission. For the first time in her life, Makoto Kino felt at peace. 

**The end.**


End file.
